


In Love With A Ghost

by Mei_MyselfandI



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alexander/Charles is abusive, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Angst, Anxiety, Denial, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jamilton is the endgame, M/M, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Therapy, This Is Sad, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse, Violence, alexander is ooc for now he needs therapy, god help me, i have a plan and intend to finish this, its gonna get crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:44:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9790409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mei_MyselfandI/pseuds/Mei_MyselfandI
Summary: Alexander Hamilton was known to be a hurricane. A relentless force of man.Yet somewhere along the line that hurricane died down and Hamilton started to change. It was the little things at first, like how he'd tense up when Thomas approached him a little too fast. How his hands began to shake as he poured his morning coffee. Then, Thomas had noticed the first time Alexander flinched when Washington had raised his hand to pat his shoulder.It's funny, how fast people change. How fast things can change. How fast people can change other people.





	1. He Was Known To Be Non-Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags for trigger warnings please. Btw i have no clue what i'm doing but I hope this turns out well....  
> Enjoy!

Alexander always assumed that nobody really noticed. It was a relatively slow process anyway, he couldn’t blame anyone. He remembered back to when he used to talk nonstop. He was loud and abrasive, but yet passionate, determined. Alexander found that he missed those days. But, he had calmed down, got... quieter, like a raging storm, that had rained for weeks-on-end, finally coming to a close. Alexander wasn’t stupid, he did, in fact, notice the changes within himself. He watched himself become more reserved and distant. Then in long run, when all was said and done, found himself only speaking when necessary.

He knew it was better this way. Alex often wondered if people liked him more, with his mouth shut, probably. He certainly did. Alexander, often remembered He would tell him that he talked too much, to shut up and put his mouth to better use. Back then, Alex would have snapped at Him, said something snarky or taunted Him, not caring about the punishment. But now, Alexander understood completely, he was always so full of words back then, he was always so goddamn annoying, his mouth always running. Alexander understood and knew wholeheartedly everything He did was out of love for him.

  _ **\---**_

 

Alexander let a small puff of air escape him as he found himself staring at the clock, damn already 8:10 he had to get home. There weren't many people left at the office the few that lingered, he included, were filling out last minute reports or such. Alexander had noticed the lights on in an office across from him, that probably meant Jefferson was still here. Personally, Alexander had mixed feelings when it came to Thomas Jefferson. Ever since his hurricane-like of a personality had subsided, they were just normal coworkers, with the occasional taunt from Jefferson now and then.

But, there were no more heated arguments or glares filled with annoyance and possibly even if Alexander did not want to admit it, a small amount of fondness. There was no more slam of the door opening, with one of them barging in each other's offices with stacks upon stacks of papers filled with a momentous amount of edits. Alexander missed their rivalry more than he found himself wanting to admit. Speaking of Jefferson, _more like thinking of Jefferson_ , Alex needed to get some papers signed by him. He got off the chair, shuffled said papers, and grabbed a pen from his desk.  
  
Thankfully Jefferson’s office was just across the hall so it didn't take long to reach it. Alexander knocked on the door, he didn’t barge in anymore _He_ always said that was rude. He stood waiting until he heard a very tired 'come in'. As Alex walked in the office he could see Jefferson’s back hunched over his desk, he’d never say it out loud, but the man was decent. Immediately after that thought, Alexander shook his head as if that would get rid of it, he couldn’t think that. _He_ certainly wouldn't like that.  
  
"Hamilton." Jefferson had greeted him quick and short not even bothering to glance up, that was fine Alexander found eye contact made him uncomfortable recently, "What do you need?" Alex shuffled over to Jefferson, his feet barely lifting off the ground, and placed the papers neatly in front of him.

"Washington needs you to sign these." He quietly murmured rather quickly and almost barely above a whisper. Alexander realized had he not been that close there was no way Jefferson could have heard what he said.

"Alright, I look through them," Jefferson replied finally looking up at Alexander to meet his eyes, but Alex, very quickly, had found his shoes much more interesting.

"Thank you, goodnight." He walked towards the exit, but suddenly Jefferson said, "Wait, Hamilton, I-" _That was certainly unexpected._ Intrigued Alexander whipped around so he was facing the taller man, waiting for him to continue.  
  
"I-just never-mind. Have a goodnight."

Jefferson went back to hunching over and scribbling on his sheet of paper. Alexander slightly confused and very disappointed had turned back around and walked out. He shut the door to the office softly so it wouldn’t slam, Alex _hated_ loud noises. He checked his phone and his eyes widened as he saw the time, already 8:30, shit. He had to get home quick, or _He’d_ be pissed. Alexander, slightly jogging, burst into his office, shoved his papers and laptop in his black messenger bag. He grabbed his keys, turned off the light and locked the door. Alexander felt the first inkling of his anxiety, like a sharp, cold wind piercing through his body. God, he needed to get home, _he needed to get home._

 

_**\---** _

 

  
If someone asked Thomas about 5 months ago who Alexander Hamilton was, he was certain he could rant for at least an entire 3 hours, but if someone asked him now, he’d shrug and shake his head, he didn’t know _this_ Hamilton.

Thomas knew Alexander Hamilton, at least he knew the old one. The one who would come strolling into work every day at 6:30, his eyes sharp and head high, even though there was absolutely no reason for him to come in that earlier. The one that would work relentlessly, even though he was months ahead of everyone else. The one that would gladly taunt Thomas with mocking insults that they would spit at each other back and forth.

He remembered how Hamilton would come barging in his office eyes bright like a wildfire and speaking before Thomas could open his mouth. He remembered the cabinet meetings, oh, the cabinet meetings, they were something else. It was like a battleground of some sort where they face off in a competition of intellect and wits.

Thomas missed those honestly, more than he cared to admit.   

 

Somewhere along the line, Hamilton started to change. It was the little things at first, like how he'd tense up when Thomas approached him a little too fast, or when his hands would starting shaking as he poured his morning coffee. Then a few weeks passed and Thomas noticed the first time Hamilton flinched when Washington had raised his hand to pat his shoulder for a ‘job well done’. In a few months, he had noticed Hamilton’s decline in speech, self-confidence, aggressiveness.

No longer did the short man barge in, he would knock and wait for confirmation. The ‘New Hamilton’, Thomas began to call him, would refuse to meet his or anyone's eyes, anymore. Even when Thomas tried to say something insulting, Hamilton would just tense up a little and walk away faster.

But, there were a few things that hadn't yet changed, Hamilton still came into work early, still worked like hell, and even if he didn't say much got his point across in cabinet meetings. Thomas figured those things could never really change, but then again Thomas could never imagine he'd ever shut up and well look what happened.

For the first few weeks, he admits it, he did like the ‘New Hamilton’ better, he was: polite, quiet, submissive, Hamilton let Thomas practically walk all over him, but it felt wrong, very, very wrong. It wasn't a natural meekness, Hamilton's personality was not like that, you couldn't stop a hurricane and turn into a sun-shower, it didn't work that way. So, Thomas stopped and really looked for once, he really should have been able to figure it out sooner. He always prided himself in his observational skills and yet he didn’t realize what was happening right before his eyes. But, he knew, subconsciously what was happening to Hamilton he just couldn't, no, he refused to believe that the headstrong, aggressive, annoying, little shit, was being... _abused_?

It just didn't fit in Thomas’ mind the puzzle pieces just did not, could not click. He had never expected a person like Hamilton to fall into that kind of relationship with someone, but there was no other explanation, all the signs were right there, laid out for anyone to see. He had experience with victims of abuse, his own sister, had gone through it and he had helped her was there for her. But, what? What could _he_ possibly do for Hamilton? Hamilton and him we're not friends, if anything, rivals, but even that was questionable. All he could do was watch in horror as someone who used to be passionate and strong-minded was reduced to nothing but meek and quiet.

 

_**\---** _

 

Thomas looked up when he heard a knock at his door, “Come in,” he murmured tiredly. He heard shuffling come towards him, probably an intern or something, but when he looked up, "Hamilton." Thomas greeted him quick, short yet slightly surprised, "What do you need?" The smaller man was already standing in front of his desk saying something very quietly he heard fragments, ‘Washington’ and ‘sign’ he pretty much got the gist of it.

“Alright, I look through them.” Thomas replied looking straight into Hamilton’s brown eyes. He noticed Hamilton had become uncomfortable under such eye contact, it wasn't like that before ‘The Old Hamilton’ would have met his gaze eyes with a burning passion, ready for a fight. This Hamilton, the new one, looked away, his eyes wandered trying to not make eye contact. He murmured something that sounded like ‘goodnight’ and started to walk away, but Thomas felt he had to, no, needed to say something,

“Wait Hamilton I-”

Thomas began but he didn't know what to say, how to even bring it up, but Hamilton was waiting, eyes focused on his shoes, “-I just, nevermind. Have a goodnight.” When Thomas heard his door shut close he closed his eyes and left out a huge groan while laying back on his swivel chair, as it spun slightly. What the hell was he thinking or saying or even trying to say? He felt the need to help Hamilton, but he couldn't... at all, the ones who should be helping him was Hamilton’s friends, not Thomas. With another lengthy groaned expelled from his chest he got up and check his phone 8:30, already, might as well go home.

Thomas reached toward his desk closed his laptop and shoved it into his bag he started at the papers Hamilton had given him and put them in a folder and in his bag as well. He grabbed his keys turned the light off in his office and locked the door. Thomas began walking down the hallway towards the exit, noticing Hamilton’s lights were still on. But, as he got closer the lights turned off and the door opened and closed with such vigor he was sure it might have broke. Thomas a little curious as to what caused Hamilton’s spike in emotion walked closer, it was a bad idea honestly. Because, a second later he was on the floor with a small weight on his chest.

“Oh my god!” Thomas whined. Why the hell was it always him that got in these situations and why with always Hamilton? Thomas felt the weight quickly rise of his chest and saw a hand in front of his face, Hamilton's face was scrunched in horror and worry.

“Jefferson, shit, I'm sorry.” He heard Hamilton very quietly his voice shaky.

Thomas took his hand and stood up with a very irritated grimace plastered on his face, “Couldn't run any faster, Hamilton?”

“S-sorry.” Hamilton looked down and curled into himself as if he was bracing himself. Thomas immediately felt guilty, but hell if he outright said that. Instead, he replied with, “It's fine, just watch your step.” Then with a little playfulness, he continued, “To repay me, walk with me, I'm assuming you're leaving?” Hamilton nodded his ponytail bouncing with him and little loose strands of hair fell out, framing his face. 

 

Cute.

Wait what. Ignore that.

Thomas shook his head he needed sleep. He began walking Hamilton matching his pace at his side. They walked to the exit in a slightly awkward yet comfortable silence. Thomas didn't know whether initiating conversation was the right thing to do, Hamilton didn't like talking anymore anyway so he said nothing. Soon enough they got to the parking lot and parted ways, Thomas was going right and Hamilton left. 

“Goodnight.” Thomas said turning to look at the smaller man.

“Goodnight to you too and sorry about bumping into you.”Hamilton replied. 

Thomas left out a little amused huff under his breath, “It's fine.” Thomas turned to leave, but then he felt the annoying itch to just say something _more_. “Drive safe!” He called towards the small receding figure. Thomas saw Hamilton turn around and nod, a small smile on his face and his cheeks dusted red, probably from the cold. Thomas adjusted his jacket smiling a little to himself. It's just been a while since he saw Hamilton smile. Thomas got into his car and started driving back to his apartment. As he waited at a red light he stared at the night sky noticing today, the stars seemed to shine brighter.

 

_**\---** _

 

Alexander parked his car in the driveway of his house while pulling out his phone to check the time, 9:15. It was late already Alex hoped Charles wasn't up or at home. He shoved his key into the keyhole turning left until he heard a click and stepped into the hallway. Alexander was not a very lucky man. Charles was sitting down on the couch beer in hand watching the news.

“Charles, how was your day?” Alexander asked quietly testing the water, praying the boat didn't tip.

“Fine.” Charles had replied curtly. It didn't seem as if he was in bad mood, that was good.

 “Anything, specific for dinner?” Alexander asked as he placed his bag down in the hallway. Charles shook his head to indicate ‘no’ and Alexander let out a mental sigh, this was good, _this was good_. Alexander went to go work in the kitchen getting out all the ingredients and utensils he needed. He worked as quickly and as quietly as possible,  Charles didn't like any noise. Alexander stood in front of the pot adding some seasoning when he felt a warm body behind, an arm snake around his waist that was carefully placed just above his bruise, and a head resting on his shoulder. He honestly almost jumped and spilled the whole pan.

“Charles,” his voice breathless, “Y-you scared me.”

Charles hummed, "You know I love you. Don't forget that, I love you." Then continued nuzzling his face into Alexander's neck, running his teeth over it and gripping his waist a little tighter. It made Alexander shiver wether from pain or pleasure he didn't know they were practically the same thing now. 

After they had finished their meal, Alexander washed their plates he could see Charles watching him, his head tilted, resting on his arm and eyes blown filled with _want_. Charles took him by his hand and led him towards their bedroom whispering sweet nothings in his ear; he had Alexander giggling. Alex’s mind could barely comprehend what was going on it had been so long since Charles had treated him this way. But that was okay, because he was now, even if it was only for one night and _that was okay_. As soon as they got into the bedroom, Charles pressed him into the mattress and Alexander wrapped his arms around his neck, enjoying the moment for as long as he could, because he _knew_ moments like these, they were fleeting.

For a quick second, he caught a glimpse of the window the stars seemed a little brighter tonight.


	2. Talk A Little Bit Less, Smile A Bit More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes. It's getting worse and worse, he came in limping, again this time clutching his waist. I'm more than sure this is at least the third time this week! And yet, all of this and he still looked so happy, so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (!!Abusive relationship warning!!)  
> Here is chapter two everyone! The way I write can be very confusing sometimes cause I switch pov a lot so watch out for that. Thank you guys so much for all kudos, comments and overall support! Enjoy!

Shit.

 

Fuck.

 

Shit.

 

Blankly and full of disbelief, Thomas started at the time on his phone, it was 8:40, he had to be at work _by 9:00_. Twenty minutes, twenty minutes _, he had twenty goddamn minutes._ He blinked out of this stupor then practically jumped out of bed. Thomas threw on his suit and ran in his living room gathering all his papers, making sure to grab Hamilton’s papers as well. It was 8:45 already, ah no, 8:46. Thomas let out an elongated sigh that sounded more like, “Fuuuuuuck”. He snatched his keys of the table, threw everything he needed in his briefcase, slammed the door shut locking it with a click, and proceeded to sprint towards his car. He threw his bag in the passenger seat and pulled out the driveway. He pressed his hands together and silently mocked prayed that traffic wouldn’t be bad.

Thomas walked into his office, his tie only slightly crooked, thank god, and huffed throwing his bag on the chair. Somehow, he had managed to get to work in around 15 minutes, give or take, that truly was a new record. After getting settled, Thomas walked out of his office in search of his favorite liquid caffeine drink. He thought of going to a cafe, but after such a hectic morning he was bummed out, so the break room would have to do.

When he walked into the break room he noticed Lafayette and Hercules sitting quite close, almost in each other’s laps, whispering furiously, _if it could even be considered whispering._ But, they were so engaged in their conversation, they didn't even notice him come in. As Thomas walked got closer to the coffee machine and likewise Lafayette and Hercules he could practically hear their entire conversation. As he was pouring his coffee and eavesdropping, he quickly realized that this conversation was not one he wanted to hear.

 

_At all._

 

_Ever._

 

“He isn’t in work yet and he is not picking up his phone!” Lafayette hissed quite viciously. Thomas heard Hercules sigh and reply back, “Gil, don't jump to any unreasonable conclusions, his phone is probably off or dead and-”

 

“-and Lee is probably beating the shit out of him, merde!” Out the corner of his eye, Thomas could see Lafayette bury his face in his hand out of distress, and he dumped sugar in his coffee not bothering to stir, he _needed_ to get out of there.

 

“Gilbert!”

 

“I’m sorry, but we both know, hell everyone does, and I think it's about time we talk to him.” Thomas gulped, and stirred his milk in, closed the cup, and grabbed his phone. He was grateful for the fact they hadn’t said Hamilton’s name.  

 

“It's not going to be easy, remember last time?”

 

“I know, I know, but I'm done waiting. Hercules, what if he really hurts Ale-”

 

Thomas coughed, purposefully interrupting lafayette, he couldn't bear it. To hear his name, it made everything a bit _too real_ , it hit a bit _too close_ to home, Thomas preferred it when he could distant himself from a situation he couldn’t do anything about. Quickly, he tried to escape the break room, coffee in hand, yet he could _feel_ both men's piercing gaze upon his back.  

“Thomas,” He heard the Frenchman say, and in result stopped dead in his tracks. Why did Lafayette have to be so damn confrontational? 

  
“Lafayette,” Thomas replied and turned around to face him, feeling himself starting to sweat. He really did not want to have this conversation.

  
  
“Dites-moi, Thomas, combien avez-vous entendu? (Tell me, Thomas, how much did you hear?)”

  
  
“Enough.” he replied back in English, trying to shuffle closer to the door.

  
  
“Écoute, s'il te plaît, ne parles pas ŕ pers- (Look, please don't go telling any-).”

  
  
“-Je le savais déjà, Lafayette. (I already knew, Lafayette.)” Thomas said cutting off the Frenchman looking. He just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. But, then he saw Lafayette looking downright miserable and guilty as if everything was somehow his fault and Thomas felt a twinge of guilt.

 

“How long?”

  
  
“A while, J'ai reconnu son comportement (I recognized his behavior).” Lafayette looked pensive Thomas could see the cogs in his mind churning, but then he looked up and smiled, granted it didn't reach his eyes, “Have a good morning, mon ami.” For Thomas that signified the end of their conversation so he nodded and replied, “You too.” Then all but ran out of the break room trying to put as much distance between him and the Frenchman as possible.

 

 

\---

 

 

Lafayette had been friends with Alexander for the longest time. Almost 15 years they had known each other. Lafayette had seen him go through the hardest of heartbreaks, darkest of times and yet this was, he considered, rock bottom for Alexander.

He would know, he knew the Caribbean well.

All _too_ well.

_He_ was there when Alexander’s father had left when his mother passed. _He_ was the one along with Hercules and John, who had consoled him, who was there for him. _He_ was the one who introduced him to Eliza, was there when he and her had Philip. _He_ was there when they got married, then divorced. _He_ was the one who helped Alexander take care of Philip when he got custody. _He_ watched him and John dance around each other pushed them together, even though his heart ached. _He_ was there when Alexander and John broke it off, helped them both through it till they were friends again.

 

_He was always there._

 

_He_ _knew_ Alexander and yet as he watched him fall and tumble and chase after a man who couldn’t care less, he felt _useless_. _He_ would watch every day as Alexander got a little quieter, a little smaller, talked a little less, smiled a bit more.

Lafayette let out a sigh as he watched Thomas leave the break room. He turned back around to face Hercules.

“You alright Gil?” he heard Hercules ask him and he gave him a small smile, “Come on let's go find, Alexander.” Surprisingly, they didn't have to search that far, as they were nearing the entrance, Alexander was also coming in. When Lafayette saw him he smiled his worries slightly subsided then it fell as Alexander came closer. Lafayette felt his blood boil.

Alexander was limping.

 

_Again._

 

_Did that man have no control?_

 

He turned his head quickly to meet Hercules’ eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining anything. Hercules had nodded his handsome features twisted in an angry grimace. 

  
“Alexander,” Lafayette began, trying to keep his anger from seeping in his words, “You were quite late today, are you okay?”  
  
“Laf, Herc, Good morning!” Alexander said smiling brightly. Both men were taken quite aback. What the hell was going on? But, before they got to question him he continued, “I'm good, Charles wanted me to stay a bit that's all.” Lafayette swore he could see hearts in Alexander's eyes, this was so wrong.

_It was all so so wrong._

“What did you guys do?” Hercules asked, nonchalantly, as if he didn't know. Alexander didn't say anything, but he blushed his skin a flame. That completely answered Gilbert’s suspicion and Hercules question at once.

_He was done._

He was absolutely done watching this torturous cycle, go around and around. He knew it well, he knew it all _too_ well. The tension would build between them, leaving Alexander to walk on eggshells around Lee, _god forbid one of them break_. He would walk around work with his head down, wincing at every too-loud noise, at every slam of the door. Alex would try to stay away from as many people as possible, because his eyes are always filled to the brim with tears, waiting, waiting.

Yet, no matter what Alexander did Lee would explode on him. And, Lafayette would watch Alex come to work hurting, _always hurting_ , an arm clutching his side, wincing when as walked, his eyes red, and cheeks almost stained with tears, Lafayette could always tell when he had cried. But he’d still try and pretend everything was fine.

Then, there was this phase, where Lee treated Alexander like he was the world, like he actually _cared_ about him. Alexander was always so _happy_ during those times, his eyes would sparkle, _they would glow_ , and he’d talk a little bit more his restrained passion seeping through, it's how Lafayette could tell. Sometimes, during those days, Lafayette would wonder if that is why Alexander stayed, for those days.

But, he was done waiting, waiting, waiting, for Alexander to come to him for help, to tell him he was done dealing with all the pain. He was done waiting for when Lee went a bit too far, pushed Alex a bit hard. Lafayette needed to get the Caribbean alone so they could finally talk about his relationship, the and workplace wasn't ideal. 

“Mon ami, this evening how about we go out, you, me, Hercules and John?” Lafayette knew the answer, but he couldn't help but try, he could never forgive himself, if he didn't at least try.

  
“I can't, you know that, I can't, Laf.” Alexander said very quietly as his arm wrapped around the left side of his stomach. Lafayette clenched his teeth, there was probably a bruise there, Alexander tended to be protective of those areas.

  
  
“Then, when?”

  
  
“Friday, Charles is leaving for a business trip and ‘Liza dropping off Philip in the morning.”

  
  
“Okay, Friday it is then, I'll keeping touch okay, mon lion.” Lafayette watched sadly as Alexander figure receded into the hallway. He turned to Hercules and the man just sighed and shook his head in response. The Frenchman opened his arms and Hercules walked into the embrace.

“I have to go.” Hercules said his voice slightly muffled against Lafayette’s shoulder.

 

“Mmm, I know.” Lafayette released him and gave him a smile, yet he couldn’t help turning to the hallway Alexander walked down.

 

“He’ll be alright.”

 

Lafayette shook his head.

 

“No, he won’t.”  

 

 

\---

 

 

After Hercules had left back to his tailoring shop, Lafayette found himself down a familiar pathway to John’s office.

“Mon ami, John, we need to talk.” Lafayette said quietly leaning over the freckled man's desk. John hummed in acknowledgment, “What about?”

  
  
“Alexander.” John perked up at Lafayette’s serious tone putting down his pen and focusing all his attention on the Frenchman.

  
“Alexander and-”

  
  
“Yes. It's getting worse and worse, he came in limping, _again,_ this time clutching his waist. I'm more than sure this is at least the third time this week! And yet, all of this and he still looked so happy, _so happy_.”

 

John looked down his brow furrowing in contemplation, taking in all of Lafayette's words. “What are you planning?”

 

“Friday, I asked him to meet us.” 

  
John hummed catching on quickly, “What else?” Ah, he was so quick-witted, one of the many reasons Lafayette had fallen in love with him.

  
  
“Get in touch with Eliza, Peggy, and Angelica, tell them Friday, 9:00, my house.”

  
  
Lafayette watched enamored as John’s freckled little nose scrunched up, god the man was adorable, “This isn't going to end well, Laf.”

  
  
“Never does, mon cher, never does, but I'll be damned if we don't try.” John smiled at that and Lafayette felt just a little bit better, yet in the back of his mind, he couldn't help the nagging worry for Alexander.

 

\---

 

  
Alexander woke up to a warm arm gripped around his waist. He fidgeted slightly to grab his phone and squinted, 5:30, he needed to get ready. He began to maneuver and squirm trying to get away from Charles as quietly and as quickly as he possibly could. But, as soon as he felt an arm tighten around his wrist he stopped immediately.  
  
  
“Stay, Alexander.”

  
  
Alex turned faintly to look at Charles, but he could barely see him in the dark of the room, “Charles you know I can't...,” Alexander felt himself trail off, “...I have work..”As soon as he said that Alex didn't even get why he tried, Charles always won, always has his way, always got what he wanted, and if what he wanted was Alexander he’d get Alexander.  
  
The arm tightened around his wrist, _hard_ , Alexander almost yelped out in pain but managed to restrain himself. He heard his partner groan while he sat up to face Alexander, “You’re never here, always leaving for work _so early_ , Alexander,” Charles's voice was dripping with venom as he continued his tirade, “You don't love me do you?”

The arm around his wrist tightened with every word, it was gonna bruise, and Alexander bit into his lip trying not to cry out, Charles loved it when he cried.

“Why do you always leave so early?” Charles hummed and closed his eyes pretending as if he was deep in thought then snapped if fingers as if he had the answer to everything, “Probably running off to some else? Such a _slut_ you are, Alexander.” 

  
“Charles I'm not... there is no one else...”Alex tried the desperation dripping from his voice, Alexander was sure Charles relished in it.

  
  
“Whoever you’re running off too, you’re just a good fuck to them, I'm the only who actually loves you, Alexander. Do you understand?” Charles paused waiting for something and Alexander quickly realized he wanted an answer.

 

Alexander nodded fervently, “Yes, Sir.” Charles’s smile was like a Cheshire cat, so pleased. He loved it when Alexander called him “sir” almost as much as when he cried.

 

“Repeat it, 3 times, baby, for me, just so I _know_ you understand.” And, Charles _loved_ to humiliate him, Alexander almost considered it one of his favorite pass times.   

  
“I’m just a good fuck to them, You’re the only who loves me, sir.”

  
  
“Again.”

  
  
“I’m just a good fuck to them, You’re the only who lo-oves me, sir-r.” By the end of the second one, Alexander could feel himself tearing up, he hated it when Charles made him do this.    
  
  
“Mmm, one more time, Alex.” Of course, Charles was grinning ear to ear Alex could feel the smugness radiating off of him he was so happy, and it made Alexander’s eyes glisten a little more.  
  
  
“I-i’m j-just a good fu-fuck to them, You’re t-the only w-who lo-loves me, sir-.” But, Alexander didn't want to, to give Charles that satisfaction of seeing him cry, but Alexander couldn't help it.

  
  
“My Alexander,” He felt Charles’s hands run over his face brushing his warm tears away,  “I hope you understand now, I wouldn't have to do this if you didn't go to work so early, If you just stayed here with me, I’m the only one who could ever love you.”

 

He sighed, “Lay down, Alexander.” Defeated and mentally stressed out Alexander had given in, he didn't want to find out the consequence of not laying down, anyway. However, before he laid down, Alexander tried to place his phone back on the dresser but then he heard Charles shift towards him-

  
“Give it to me.”

  
“Charle-”

  
“ _Give it_.” Charles growled and Alexander flinched, handing his phone to Charles he didn't want to piss him off any more than he already did.

  
“Good boy.” Charles cooed condescendingly. He smirked at Alexander and shut off his phone completely, throwing it off to his side of them bed, it was completely off-limits for Alexander now. The taller man laid back down and dragging Alexander closer. Alex laid his head on Charles’s chest and felt an arm tighten around his waist right where a healing bruise was. Alexander immediately realized that he’d be hurting a lot more, very quickly.

  
“Does it still hurt?”

  
  
“....”

 

Alexander didn't know what to say.

 

He was overwhelmed, he felt his throat close up, and a warm, vulgar, impending feeling well up in his gut. It was always a mystery with Charles. If he said yes; then Charles would get pissed at him for being such a _little bitch_ , and hurt him more. But, then again, if Alexander said no, well, Charles _hated_ it when Alexander lied to him, it was one his ten little rules.

  
" _Alexander, does it still hurt_?” Charles said impatiently.

  
  
Alexander chose the latter and prayed for the best, “..No.”  

 

_“Liar.”_

 

_Fuck._

  
He felt a flash of pain in his lower abdomen and fingers _digging, pressing_ into the yellowish-purple marking and he _knew_ he got the wrong answer. He began to whimper, plead and _pray_ quietly against Charles’s chest as if he was in church and Charles was his savior. Because, It hurt, god, _it hurt_.

“Charles, Charles it does hurt, stop it, _stop it, please, I’m sorry_.”

He didn't stop, Alexander _knew_ he wouldn't, but god help him, _it hurt_ and he wished Charles would have mercy, but he kept on pressing and _pressing_ , harder and _harder_ .

“You think you can just lie to me? Baby, all I want is for you to tell me the truth.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Charles, please let go, please.”

“I know, I know, it hurts baby, so, stop going to work so early.”

He pressed harder.

“Stop fucking other men and women.”

He pressed harder.  

“And stop fucking lying to me!”

He pressed harder. 

_Alexander screamed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got really long as I was writing it so I had to cut it, so expect another update in a few days!


	3. He Was Happy. Was He Happy? He Didn't Know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were everywhere, everywhere. He dragged his hands all over his neck and shoulders, they were littered, covered, with blue and black. His arms and his hands, his waist, his torso, his thighs and his calves. His entire body was covered in the blackish-blue markings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!YAY CELEBRATION TIME COME ON!!!
> 
> In honor of this fic hitting 100 kudos I have decided to get my ass into gear and post this chapter as early as possible for you guys! (I didn't get a chance to really edited yet, sorry :( i will soon though) 
> 
> Before you start: this is isn't actually "chapter 3" its more like the 2nd part to chapter 2. So the events happening are literally kicking off right where "chapter 2" ended. 
> 
> Anyway thank you guys for all the love and kudos and comments, it really keeps me going! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Sometimes, Alexander was grateful they lived in such large home so no could hear him screaming and sometimes he wasn’t.

Charles hadn’t stopped digging till he reduced the smaller man to nothing but pitiful yelps and loud drawn out sobs. Alexander knew Charles loved it, _reveled_ in it, when he had him screaming and crying and begging. 

Pain always left Alexander’s mind disoriented, like a deep fog had washed over his senses and he could longer see just tumble and fall, and hope for an end. It could have been five minutes or an hour, and Alexander didn’t know. That always left him terrified, because essentially Charles could hurt him for however long he pleased and Alexander would be none the wiser. Alexander felt Charles shift to pull him close and felt a kiss on his cheek followed by “I'm sorry and I had to” and Alexander understood, it was his fault. Everything Charles _ever_ did was to help him.  
  
The smaller man sighed tiredly against Charles’s chest as he felt the man’s hands softly running through his hair. He closed his eyes hoping, _praying_ , or blissful sleep, but Alexander could still feel the continuous tremors of his shaking body, rattling him all the way to his bones. He had lied to Charles and that was _his fault_ , he knew that, but somewhere in the far back of his mind Alexander always wondered if maybe it wasn’t.    

 

_\---_

  
  
Alex felt his eyes flutter open to see Charles’s body draping over him, his legs on either side of Alexander’s slim body, pinning him down and completely restricting his movement . The Caribbean flinched, “C-charles?” He didn't answer him, but instead leaned down to press his lips against Alexander neck. The soft kisses quickly turned harder and then into nips and bites at Alexander’s neck. Alex felt his drop mouth open and let out a small whine, “Charles-s, I have work.” Alexander weakly tried to sit up his sides still aching, but Charles roughly pushed him back down and there was no room for argument.  
  
Looking down upon Alex the the taller man had smirked, “Relax, baby, it's only 7:45 you have time and I'm more than sure you don't want a repeat of earlier, so don't move .”  
  
Exhausted from earlier, Alex relaxed as much as he could and laid in the bed, letting Charles have his way with him. Roughly, he dragged his hands across Alexander’s body, pausing at the large bruise from before. Alex froze waiting for something, for flash of pain, for fingers digging into his sides, but Charles did nothing and continued downward.

 

When Charles reached his thighs he gripped them _tight_ , kneading the flesh making the smaller man wince and squirm, in pleasure, in pain he didn’t know. The taller man leaned in to press his lips against Alexander’s ear, “My whore. My slut. My Alexander. _You're mine_.”

Alexander nodded carefully letting out a broken, “ _Yours_.” and he could _feel_ Charles’s smile widened against his cheek. The short-haired man’s arms finally reached further down Alexander’s legs and he gripped his knees, firmly, pulling them apart.

 

“Spread your legs for me, baby.”

 

Alexander did as he was told.

 

\---

  
  
  
He laid on the bed alone, exhausted, sticky and sweaty. Alex flinched when he heard the loud slam of the bathroom door and waited a few minutes making sure Charles was finally gone. Alexander sat up his sides aching from his old bruise and the new smaller ones. Alex never minded them, unlike his friends, because Charles liked them so much. The small man began to move carefully off the bed, one leg the second following. When his feet hit the floor he almost crashed back down, but caught the edge of the bed quickly enough. His legs were shaking, knees wobbling and knocking into each other and his bottom half hurt like hell. Charles didn't go easy on him at all, Alexander knew he wouldn't, _he never did_. Tears formed in corner of his eyes when he felt something drip down his thigh, but he quickly blinked them away, of fucking course Charles didn't use a condom. _He never did._  
  
  
Alexander limped down the hallway to the next nearest bathroom and started the shower. Standing, in front of the mirror, he took in his reflection as he waited for the water to warm up.

 

Alexander never _really_ considered himself all too handsome. He didn't have muscles or abs or anything typically “manly”. But his body had never been this bad, he was thin, _very thin_ , slightly malnutritioned, sleep deprived, his arms held no muscles, wrists covered in little sacred lines, his legs were thin, his hair long and messy slightly past his shoulders, eyes were a dark brown nothing special, but they were followed by a set of deep bags.

 

That wasn’t it though, what had completely ensnared his attention were the bruises. They were everywhere, _everywhere._ He dragged his hands all over his neck and shoulders, they were _littered, covered,_ with blue and black and bite marks. His arms and his hands, his waist, his torso, his thighs and his calves. His entire body was covered in the blackish-blue markings.

Alexander’s arms fell limply to his sides. 

_What the hell was he doing?_

 

_What happened to him?_

 

He felt warm drops of water on his face and he closed his eyes, _pathetic._

Alexander looked up at the mirror again, but it was fogged over distorting his reflection, the water had to warm enough now. He stepped in the shower letting the scalding hot droplets rain over him as if they could wash away his sins and his failures, his inadequacies as if they could make him _him_ again.

  
At that thought,  Alexander felt his knees buckle and he collapsed on the hard tile, his head rested on the tile wall. Tears fell from his eyes, but no sound escaped from his lips. _God, why the fuck was he like this? Such a crybaby, so pathetic so pitiful._ Alexander let out a broken laugh he swore the voice in his head sounds _exactly_ like Charles.  
  
After a few minutes, the Caribbean felt a bit better and numb to his surrounds so he was able to stand, still shaky, and wash himself. He scrubbed _hard_ trying to get any reminder of Charles off him. He scrubbed and scratched himself till his body was red and bright and aching, but it always was so Alexander couldn't feel a difference. Then he turned the water off and stepped out the shower, wrapping himself in a towel. Alexander walked back to the shared bedroom, grabbing his clothes and then quickly scurrying away back to the bathroom.  
  
  
As he buckled his belt he noticed the once yellowish bruise was back to a familiar black and purple-blue color. Alexander sighed and applied a healing cream, before wrapping it. Once he was done and dressed, he walked down stairs, a faint aching in his lower half, and admired the silence in his home. Well, _Charles’s home_ , Alexander corrected himself he had moved in a few months ago, maybe 5 or 6, he couldn’t really remember.

The house itself was enormous, Charles was rich after all and he liked to show off. The walls were pure white and the morning light gave everything a peaceful glow. Alexander couldn’t help it, and his lips upturned into a small smile, it was beautiful after all.  
  
When Alexander reached the bottom of the stairs he made a straight beeline for the kitchen. Alexander opened the fridge and there wasn't much, he'd have to go shopping this weekend, but there still some eggs. Grabbing a few he began on an omelet. As he was mixing the eggs in a bowl he heard Charles come down the stairs and into the kitchen. Alexander tried his best to relax.

 

“Baby, look at me.” Alexander turned to face Charles and suddenly he felt a warm pair of lips upon his mouth. Alexander moaned into the kiss he placed the bowl on the counter and his arms found their way around the taller man’s neck.

 

If he was being honest he couldn't stand sex between him and Charles. He was always a little _too hard_ , a little _too_ _rough_. But, this, _this_ , the soft kisses in the morning light, the light grip around his waist, and Alexander could feign love, could feign happiness and hope one day everything would be okay.  
  
Charles pulled away but still kept close, their foreheads still touching. “Go sit down, Alexander.”  
  
“Huh?” Alex replied dumbly.  
  
“Sit down I'll make breakfast today, since you were such a good boy for me.”  
  
Alexander’s body had followed numbly to Charles’s instruction to sit down, but his mind still couldn’t comprehend what the man said. When Alex finally came to he noticed his phone still off but on the table. He picked it up carefully, as if it could shock him at any moment, and he turned to look at Charles. “Can I-”  
  
“Of course, baby.” Charles replied before Alexander could finish his sentence. When the food was finished Charles had walked over to the table with two plates in hand, and they ate in a comfortable silence.

In that moment, Alexander had realized that _this_ is why he stays, for _this_ Charles. His friends just didn’t understand, they kept asking him to leave, but he was happy. Why would he leave? He was _happy_ .  
  
He was _happy_.

  
  
He was _happy_?

  
  
Was he _happy_?

 

_He didn’t know._

 

  
\---

 

  
  
Alexander had given Charles’s a kiss goodbye before he left for work. When he was finally in his car and he gave himself a chance to look at his messages.  
  
_20 unread messages_  
_5 missed calls_  
  
He let out a tired sigh and berated himself for worrying his friends again. God, Laf was probably screaming Herc’s ear off. Alexander let out an amused huff at that thought. He loved his friends he really really did, it was just Charles didn't.

He hated it when he mentioned them or went out with them. But, Alexander guessed it was fair, because he couldn’t stand Charles’s friends either, especially one James Reynolds. Alexander heard a car honk behind him a realized the light had turned green. He put his phone back down and focused on the road.  
  
The small man walked through the entrance doors when he saw Lafayette looking quite worried, and Alex realized he worried about _him_. Alexander began walking a little faster trying to get the anxious man to notice him, but a sharp pain shot up his leg, he prayed they couldn’t notice him limping.  
  
He saw his friends heads turn to look at one another as if they were confirming something. From where Alexander could see Lafayette looked pissed beyond belief, and Hercules’s usually calm features were twisted. Alexander eyes widened, _it was because of him, they were angry at him, god why did have to be such a hinderance on everyone, his friends, his family, Charles._ Quickly, he snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the frenchman call him.  
  
“Alexander.” He said relieved, as if he just found his missing child. “You were quite late today, are you okay?”  
  
Alexander felt terrible, almost nauseous, he made them worry about him, they were angry at him. He felt a sour taste in mouth the acidic guilt eating away at his stomach. _What could he do?_ He had to show them, _prove to them_ , that he was _fine_ , that him and Charles were happy and _okay_.

  
  
So, he put on a show.

 

“Good morning, Laf, Herc!” Alexander smiled, _he hoped this was working_ , “I'm good, Charles wanted me to stay a bit that's all.” God, he prayed that this was working. Laf and Herc looked confused, that was good, well, better than angry at least.  
  
But then of course Hercules had to ask, “What did you guys do?”  
  
How was he supposed to tell them? _What_ was he supposed to say, Charles hurt me for a bit than we had sex and he made me breakfast? So Alexander said nothing. That wasn’t uncommon these days anyway, if anything it was more surprising when he talked.  
  
However, his efforts were futile, because it seemed even without words they were able to figure out what had happened. Lafayette looked angry and ready to kill if he got the chance and Hercules wasn’t too far off. Alexander had expected him to go off right then and there on a speech on why he needed to leave Charles, but instead he asked, “Mon ami, this evening how about we go out, you, me, Hercules and John?”

 

“I can't, you know I can't, Laf.”

 

He couldn't go out weekdays, Charles would kill him, especially if he knew just _who_ he was out with. Unconsciously, Alexander felt himself wrap arm around his waist, right where the bruise was, as if he was protecting it from something or someone. 

“Then, when?”  
  
Alexander thought quickly, “Friday night, Charles is leaving for a business trip and ‘Liza dropping off Philip in the morning.” He loved the weekends. Charles was almost always out of the house from Friday to Sunday nights leaving Alexander alone. Not to mention, every weekend, even though it was her month with him, Eliza would drop Philip.  
  
“Okay, Friday night it is then, I'll keep touch okay, mon lion.” As soon as Alexander heard those words from Lafayette he bolted, granted it was slow, but he tried walked away as fast as he could, without hurting himself.  
  
As soon as he was far enough he slowed down, his lower half starting to ache again. Alexander took his time walking to the elevator, admiring the silence. He reached the familiar gray doors and pushed the up button waiting for them to open. Alex sighed as he stepped inside, to his luck there was no else inside the elevator. Pushing the “51” button the keypad rested his back on the elevator wall, his eyes fluttering close. He was tired, and his head hurt and he was tired, always, _always tired_.  
  
The doors of the elevator chimed open and Alexander stepped out making his way to his office.  Finally, _finally_ , he had reached his office door, ready to sink into chair. He pushed the door open and--

 

“ _Jefferson!_ ” He squeaked. Was he actually at the wrong office? No, no way. Then-

  
  
“Hamilton.”

 

Alexander didn't know what was going on. _Jefferson was in his office. Jefferson was in his office? Why the hell is Jefferson in his office?_ Not even just in his office, he was sitting in Alexander’s chair, spinning around like a little kid, a smug smirk was plastered on his face. The smaller man felt an ounce of annoyance build up in his gut, and then stopped himself, realizing it's been awhile since he felt like _that_.  
  
“Why are you in here?” Jefferson smirk grew even wider, _was that even possible_ , as he got up off Alexander chair, leaving it creaking.  
  
“Washington need us in his office for a meeting, but you weren't here yet, told me to make sure you hadn't fell asleep in your office, gave me the key.” Just to mock him, Jefferson leaned in closer to Alexander, dangling said keys in front of his face.  
  
Alexander felt his face heat up as Jefferson leaned in, the keys jingling in front of his eyes. This man was infuriating, sometimes, beyond infuriating, sometimes. _Yea and also, infuriatingly handsome,_ his brain provided and his face _burned_ red, leaving him to spit out his next words slightly stuttering, “Y-You walked me out.”  
  
“As if I’d ever give up a chance to get the key to my rival’s office. Anyway, that's not important, Washington’s waiting, and of course you decided to be late today.” Alexander eyes widened and he flinched, but tried to compose himself, hopefully before Jefferson saw.

 

“Right, let's go.” He muttered softly, all the previous annoyance seeped out of him and was replaced with the memories of earlier. Quickly, Alex turned to walk in the direction of Washington's office with Jefferson now unnaturally quiet at his side.

 

Alexander liked the quiet.

 

It was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few questions:  
> Would you guys like to see longer chapters (4000-5000 words) that take more time to post or shorter chapters (2500-3000 words) but they are faster?  
> What would you guys like to see happen any requests and I'll do what I can! 
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr I made one just for this fic/hamilton: https://dowhateveryouwantimsuperdead.tumblr.com/


	4. What if- What if- What if-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles. He read a little bit faster, gripping the paper causing it to ripple.
> 
> Charles. He put the paper down quickly, grabbing another.
> 
> Charles. Alexander slammed the wrinkled papers down on his desk, his breathing elevated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so unhappy with the way chapter 4 had turned out so i just rewrote some of the parts that were terrible, i didn't get how you guys liked that it was t r a s h!! 
> 
> Anyway srry this is isn't a super quick update i just really had to rewrite this is been in the back of mind the entire day of how terrible it was. 
> 
> Thank you guys for all the love and kudos and comments, it really keeps me going!
> 
> Enjoy!

Thomas chuckled lightly as he watched Hamilton’s small frame struggle with Washington’s large office doors. The whole thing seemed like it was out of a stupid comic. Tiny Man vs. Large Door, Thomas covered his mouth with his hand trying extremely hard not to burst out laughing at his own stupid joke. He began to walk foward to go help Hamilton, but before Thomas could get close enough, the door was already swinging open. They walked in the and Washington had given them a smile and gesturing for them to take a seat.

 

Thomas sat down and watched as Angelica gave Hamilton a serious once over, she was probably still worried over his limping. He’d noticed the small man’s limp, he just didn’t want to think about the _meaning_ behind it. _It wasn’t his business._

 

Washington cleared his throat gathering their attention. “Good morning, Angelica, Alexander, Thomas.” They all muttered a polite good morning back in response.

 

“You wanted to see us, sir?” Thomas asked. What the hell was so important that required, the COO (himself), CFO (Hamilton) and VPM (Angelica) all in one room?  

 

“Yes.” Washington took a deep breath, there were bags underneath his eyes and his shoulders were slightly slouched, tired; he was tired, Thomas realized. “In a month from today the Board of Directors-”

 

Thomas’s eyes widened and he sat a little straighter, in the corner of his eyes watched Hamilton and Schuyler do the same, nothing ever good came when the Board was mentioned.

 

“-has decided to host a corporate event in honor of our current executive chairman, George King.”

 

“Sir,” Angelica began, “Is this what I think it is?”

 

“Yes, Angelica, it's a bit early this year, but indeed it is, the Annual Executive Party.” The CEO leaned forward in the chair clasping his hands and resting them on his desk. “You must remember this isn't a regular party or event. It's a test. The board will judging our two companies, us and Lee.” Thomas watched, curious, as Washington and Angelica’s eyes flickered to Hamilton. He expected them to say something, but they had stayed silent and Washington continued.

 

“Since this happens to be the 10th annual event they’ve decided that weaker of the two companies is getting cuts-backs, _serious cut-backs_. They want three representatives, so I have chosen you three. The Board is expecting a report for each branch. Thomas you will be handling our management and day-to-day affairs,  Alexander our finances and stocks, and Angelica our markets and advertising. Lee will be doing the same with his own representatives.”

 

“When do you want this all done by, sir?”

 

“The date of the event is February 24. I need these reports handed in to me so I can look over them by February 20. You have a little over a month. I have an exceeding faith that you three will be able to handle this exceptionally.” The three of them nodded determinedly at Washington’s statement, they wouldn’t be there if they couldn’t hold their own.

 

Washington handed them each a laminated folder, “It's the exact words from the board, follow that and I'm more than positive we’ll be fine.” He then turned to face Angelica, “That will be all for you Ms. Schuyler, Have a good day.”

 

Angelica nodded, “You as well, sir.” And she walked out office the sound of her clicking heels slowly receded.

 

Then Washington had turned to face Thomas and Hamilton a serious expression taking over his face.

 

“Sir?” He prodded lightly. It was clear to Thomas whatever he was going to saying was extremely important.  

 

“Thomas, Alexander, you two are the most exceptional writers I’ve had on my team in a long time.” Thomas couldn’t help let out a slight smile at the praise, it was rare for Washington to give out such a direct compliment. He could even see Hamilton turning a shade of pale pink, he was cute when he blushed. My god, Thomas mentally face-palmed, this had to stop.

 

“That is why I feel safe entrusting both of you which this task, Since it is the 10th annual event, the Board expects a speech in honor of the Executive Chairmen addressing various ways the company can improve and flourish. While your reports are important, this speech could _make or break our chances._ Do you understand?”

 

Thomas nodded, of course he could handle this, it was working with Hamilton that only slightly worried him. “Good, I expect this to be handed in with the rest of you reports on February 2oth as well.” Washington grabbed another laminated folder and handed it to Thomas, “Have a good day, Mr. Jefferson.”

 

“You too, sir.” Thomas replied, confused as to why Hamilton wasn’t leaving with him-- _ah, well that was not his problem._ He got up giving Washington one last nod, before turning to leave. But, no  matter how much he tired he could resist a small glance back towards the small man.  Thomas shut the office door regretting looking back as now he was trying to forget how Hamilton looked - _head down, shoulders slumped, defeated, small, scared-_ he shook his head trying to ignore his persistent thoughts.  

It wasn’t his problem.

 

He shouldn’t care.

 

But, god help him he did.

  
  


_\---_

  
  


With Jefferson gone, Alexander let himself go, he sunk into his chair and let his posture falter, shoulders slumping, his head falling towards the ground. He knew exactly what was coming  and heard Washington let out a weary sigh.  

 

“Son, I worry about your _relationship_ with Mr.Lee.” There it was again the same speech he always got, why couldn't everyone understand his relationship was _fine._

 

“There is _nothing_ to worry-”

 

“You two live together, you've invested in each other, yet you work for rivaling companies-”

 

“-and I am loyal to _this_ company-”

 

“-I know, but I hate to say this, Alexander, I dont have the _confidence_ in you that I used to have.” What? _What?_ This was completely unlike any other of Washington’s previous speeches. Alexander couldn't believe what he was hearing. He’s been with this company from the very beginning, the _very start_ , and now he’s being questioned because of his - _sure, unorthodox_ \- relationship but-

 

“Sir.. I don't understand, what you're trying to say.”

 

“Alexander.. I’m afraid, that I fear Lee may take advantage of your position in this company to _destroy_ any chances we might have at winning.”

 

“So… you're basically saying that you-u don’t trust me?” Alexander asked Washington staring at him in disbelief, _was he actually serious._

 

 _“_ It's not that I don't trust _you_ , Alexander, It’s that I don't trust your ability to say ‘no’,” Washington took a deep breath, “Alexander, since you've started seeing him, I’m not going to lie you’ve changed and I can only assume it's because of him. If he can change _you_ then what's stop him from getting whatever he wants from you?” I afraid if he asks you about this, to perhaps pirate the numbers, or fraud the speech, _Alexander you won’t say no_.”  

 

“S-sir- H-How could you I I-I-” Alexander choked up. His breathing was becoming shallow. His heart racing. Vision spotty. He shivered it felt as if there was ice running through his veins. The walls closing in on him, making him shake even more. _Was he really that see-through? He had changed so much that his own boss could tell? Goddamn what a pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, useless, stupid, worthless-_

 

 _“_ Alexander...” Washington said and Alexander covered his face with his hands letting out a sob, realizing he probably might have said all that out-loud. “Son, if you can't I understand and I'll have Oliver take your place instead-”

 

 _“No!”_ Alexander yelled, and he saw Washington blink, taken aback. He was aware he probably looked like a complete mess his eyes red and puffy, he was shivering, his hair all messy from tugging on it.

 

“No, no... This is all I have left, he took everything else, _this_ , my work, it's mine, sir, I can't let him take it away too.” Alexander lowered his voice, speaking softly, “Please, please I'll do anything! I'll-I'll I'll _lie_. I'll lie to him, tell him I wasn’t chosen, please, sir.”

 

“I don't think-”

 

“No, It'll work sir, _I swear!_ I’ll tell him you didn’t feel comfortable putting me on the job, because of our relationship.. Just _please_ let me have this.”

 

“And if he finds out?”

 

“Then that's _my_ problem to deal with, sir.” Washington sighed and Alexander knew he had him convinced.

 

“Very well. I'm not happy with this but if you feel you can handle it, okay. And, Alexander, do consider thinking about your _relationship_ with Mr.Lee it's... unhealthy to say the least.”

 

Alexander shook his head, he didn't’ want to have this conversation he felt very close to just letting it all go, to just break down to the floor in front of him, “S-sir, Not-t you to.”

 

“I am not saying leave him, Alexander, I am saying take a step back and see if this is what you really want.”

 

“It is.”

 

“I don't think so.”

 

Alexander stayed quiet after that, his eyes roaming the walls signifying the end of their conversation. Washington had grabbed the other folder and handed it to the shorter man.

 

“Think about it.” he prodded one last time before letting go. “Have a good day, Alexander.”

 

“You too, sir.” Then he got up out the chair as fast as he could with his shaky legs and ran out the office, only stopping to shut the door.

  


 

\---

 

 

Alexander quietly walked back to the elevator, this thoughts swarming.

Could he really lie to Charles?

 

Yes?

 

No?

 

Maybe?

 

He didn’t even have a choice. So could he? Yes. _He had to_. Finally, he had reached the elevator, aching to get back to the comfort of his office. The door opened a moment later and Alexander stepped in.

 

“Wait!”

 

He turned around to see Angelica speed walking towards him and quickly pressed the hold button and waiting for her to step inside.

 

“Alexander.” Angelica smiled at him.

 

“Angelica.” He replied back, “Why you still up here?”

 

She waved at stack of papers in front of his face and smirked, “They have better printers up here.” Alexander nodded knowingly then turned to the elevator keypad and pressed ‘20’ and ‘51’. They stood in silence after that until Angelica began to speak again.

 

“Did Washington talk about Le-” Alexander nodded quickly looking away, not wanting her to see his disheveled appearance.

 

“-and, Alex, don't leave me in the dark?” Her voice overall sounded playful, _almost carefree_ , but Alex knew better than that, this was after all, Angelica Schuyler, and she was one _dangerous_ woman.

 

“He didn’t trust me, Angelica.” Alexander turned to look at her. “Then he told me to _think_ about our relationship.”

 

“Which you should, it's not-” Angelica began but the elevator had stopped and Alexander let out a shaky breath. _Thank god_ , he didn’t know how much more he could have took. Angelica, Washington, they were all pushing and _pushing_ and his world was spinning and _spinning_ but only in pain. Not to mention, the icy feeling was back and his spotty vision was becoming worse. Right now he needed to be _alone_ , and for everyone to leave him and Charles alone. They were fine. There relationship was fine and he was _okay_.

 

“See you, Angelica.” He ran out the elevator, not seeing Angelica’s sad eyes watching him go.

  


 

\---

 

 

Angelica had always considered herself, a smart, perceptive, and a observational women, she was after all, Vice President of Marketing. So it didn’t surprise her when she was called down for an important meeting. However, what did surprise was the fact that she was the only one there. This was a meeting right, referring to more than one person? She turned to look at her boss, “Sir, where is everyone else?”

 

“Mr. Jefferson just came in, he’s currently, looking for Alexander.”

 

“Looking for Alex...he's not here yet?” Angelica scoffed, Alexander came into work everyday at 6:30. “Are you sure he didn’t fall asleep in his office or something?”

 

“That's why I gave Jefferson the key had him go look.” She watched her boss sigh, “If he’s not there then-”

 

“-then it’s probably Lee’s fault.” Angelica muttered quietly under her breath.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“Nothing, sir.” Washington then gestured for her to take a seat. Angelica sat down on the chair, fidgeting, her eyes roaming the walls, and her leg bouncing. She couldn’t stop thinking, _what if, what if Lee, the fuck, actually did something_ ? _What if, what if-_

 

“Don’t.” Washington said, breaking up her thoughts.

 

“Don't what?”

 

“Don’t jump to conclusions, about him.”

 

“I just- I can’t help it, Sir, when he’s with-” Angelica shook her head lowering it, trying to gather her thoughts then, snapped back up. “You know about it. So doesn’t it, _their relationship_ , bother you, at all?”

 

Washington was silent for a few minutes and for a second Angelica thought maybe, she went to far, but he continued, “Of course it _bothers_ me, he's like a _son_ to me, but if he can't admit anything to himself, then it’s almost impossible to help him without pushing him back even further. Then it's even harder to reach for him again.”

 

Angelica scoffed, “I'm not going to stop trying.”

 

“Then subtlety is key.”

 

“You seem to know a lot about this, sir.”

 

“My wife.”

 

“Ah.” Like she said, she was a perceptive women. With a few words she could piece together a narrative, she didn’t need much to see the big picture.   

 

They sat in a comfortable silence after that. Angelica pulled out her phone and made her way to the contact app, and found Thomas’s name. She couldn’t help the sad smile that tugged on her lips when she saw the contact name. A while back Alexander had changed it to “Macaroni Fucker” and she just never got around to changing it back. She missed the old Alexander, the one who was always so full, of life, of energy, of happiness. The one who played stupid pranks, and told dumb jokes, and annoyed the hell out of everyone, and- and- and- they took him for granted. She tried to ignore the rest of her nostalgic thoughts and concentrated on texting Thomas.

 

Angelica: Have you found him???

 

The loading bubble popped up and she waited in apprehension.  

 

Macaroni Fucker: Wow, no good morning Ms.Schuyler, straight to the point as always.

 

Angelica: Thomas..

 

Macaroni Fucker: I found him. We’re coming.

 

Angelica let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. “There coming, Thomas found him.”

 

“In his office?” She shook her head.“I don't know let me ask him.”

 

Angelica: Where did u find him?

 

Macaroni Fucker: He was walking to his office.

 

Angelica: So he didn’t spend the night?

 

Macaroni Fucker: Nope.

 

“He went home last night.” Washington nodded, looking deep in thought. But, Angelica couldn’t shake the feeling like there was something more, and she knew Alexander wasn’t going to tell her.

 

Angelica: This might sound weird but..

 

Angelica: When you saw him did he look alright, like did he look sick or anything?

 

Macaroni Fucker: …no not sick but..

 

Macaroni Fucker: He was limping when he walked in?

 

“ _Asshole_!” She hissed.

 

“What happened?” Washington asked ignoring her language, she really had to get control over that.

 

“Alexander is _limping_.”

 

She watched a series of emotion fly over her boss face before he settled and his neutral facade was back on. But, Angelica knew him well. His jaw was locked and his eyes held a fury, you could only see after knowing him for so long. “Maybe, maybe it is time to talk to Alexander.” Angelica smiled at that, he had so many people that cared about him so why? Why does he stay with on that didn’t? She could never understand.

 

Angelica: Thanks Thomas. See you in a few.

 

Macaroni Fucker: Np. See you.

 

She heard the door open and snapped her head around talking a good look at Alexander, her eyes raking over Alexander. He looked fine, he was like Thomas had said, limping, but other than that he looked relatively okay. Save for his somewhat puffy eyes, but that was expected, as horrible as it sounds.

 

Overall, the meeting had went smoothly, Washington had given her task, which she was more than sure she could complete without any problems and she gave her goodbyes, leaving the office. Walking silently, Angelica had made her way over to the printing room, for some reason the upstairs had always worked better. There were a tons of documents to get printed so she was going to be here a while.

 

Finally, she sighed, the last one, she grabbed the stack and walked over to the elevator. As she was rounding the corner she saw the doors closing. No way in hell was she waiting for it to come back all the way to the 70th floor.

 

“Hey- _Wait!”_ The elevator doors stopped and she fast walked her way in.

 

“Alexander.” She said slightly surprised, but with a smile. This was good maybe they could finally talk to him without him running away, he had nowhere to go, after all.

 

“Angelica.” Alexander replied quietly as he pressed their respective floor numbers ‘20’ and ‘51’. “Why you still up here?”

 

She smirked at him, playfully, trying to lighten the mood, “They have better printers up here.” Alexander nodded, but stayed silent, as always. It was a challenge to talk to Alexander nowadays. He didn't talk when he didn't need too. It was so _different_ to have to be the one to keep up the conversation. It was always used to be Alex running off at the mouth directing the flow the conversation, oh, how things changes, _how people change._

 

But, Angelica was never one to shy away from a challenge, and this was a rare opportunity, she wasn’t going to let go. To talk to Alex when he had no place to hide was almost impossible. “Did Washington talk about Le-”

 

The shorter man nodded so quickly, Angelica was afraid his head was going to fly off. She was almost afraid to continue. He was shaking like a leaf, she could _feel_ his anxiety rolling off him in waves. But, she meant well, she wanted to _help_ him. Why he didn't see it that away, she couldn’t understand.

 

So Angelica compromised, she tried her hardest to make her voice sound carefree, as if they were having small talk about the weather, or something of that nature, but she still wasn't going to leave the situation alone, “-and, Alex, don't leave me in the dark?”

 

It must have worked because Alex’s shaking stilled, but it was almost a full minute before he answered, his voice low, quiet, and _trembling_ , “He didn’t _trust_ me, Angelica.” Alexander turned to look at her and she froze, The emotion in his eyes it was indescribable, a jumbled mixture of sadness and betrayal, of self-loathing, of _loneliness_ . “Then he told me to _think_ about our relationship.”

 

When Alexander looked away his eyes focused on his phone, she resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief, as if she had just felt warmth after a long winter. But Angelica couldn’t find it in her to stop, “Which you should, it's not-”

 

However, _to Alexander’s luck_ , the elevator doors had opened and and the short man practically ran out of it, giving her a quick goodbye. Defeated, she watched him, sadly, through the closing of the elevator doors.

 

“Yea... good bye, Alex.”

 

The elevator continued downward and Angelica had resorted to leaning on the back wall, tapping on her phone. Her eyes widened as she saw a news article with her company's name on it, _interesting_. Curious, she clicked on almost immediately regretting doing so.

 

“Fuck.” She said quietly to herself. Goddamn, she really needed to control her language. But she certainly considered what she was seeing curse worthy.

 

_‘CEO Charles Lee Scores another Major Win for His Company and Respective Branches and is Expected to Out Shine CEO George Washington in Their Annual Company Duel”_

 

This was bad news. Bad news for more than one reason. Sure, if they lost they were going to get serious cut backs, on money and funding. But there were also going to be tons of people losing their jobs, wether from quitting or getting fired. And she _knew_ one of them would be Alexander. Angelica knew that Lee has been trying get Alex to quit for months now. She had found out when Alexander had left his phone at Eliza’s flower shop. It was blown up his messages like, ‘I make enough for the both of us’ and  ‘I like having you at home, all to myself.’ God the man was such an annoying, possessive, _dick_ . The only reason Alexander was still working was he was making a considerable amount of money, and if there was one thing Lee like more than beating Alex, it was money. The man was filthy rich, but he still wanted more, more, more, _always more._

 

Angelica didn't notice the elevator door open when she decided to let out a rather loud yell of, “Fuck. This shit is messed up!”

  
  
“You okay?” A chuckled and playful southern drawl came from the other side of the elevator. She felt her face warm up, but instead of shying away, she smirked and faced Thomas.

  
  
“Fine. you?”

  
  
“I'm good.” He replied back pressing the elevator number “51”. After that they stood in a relatively comfortable silence as the elevator descend to floor 20. She saw out the corner of her eye, the taller man, was sipping his coffee and scrolling through a news app. She wondered if Thomas would find the same--

  
  
“Oh, fuck.”Angelica almost bursted out laughing at the irony of it all. 

  
“I'm guessing you found the news, huh.”

  
  
“Yea.. this isn’t… good.” 

  
“No it’s not.” Angelica sighed and looked down at the floor, not good for many reasons. Then she looked back up at Thomas, “So.. what did Washington want with you and Alex?”

  
The man shrugged and shook his head, “He wanted us to write a speech in ‘Honor of George King” explaining how we can improve our company. He specified it could make or break our chances.” 

  
“Hmm.” Angelica hummed, “Sounds pretty, serious.” 

  
“Yea. But, I'm sure we’ll be fine.” Thomas replied back. 

  
But, Angelica couldn’t help but, wonder,“You two never used to get along, sure you won’t be fighting the entire time.”

 

Surprisingly, Thomas threw his head back and laughed. “I'm sure we’ll disagree it’ll just be with a lot less screaming.”

  
  
Very curious to hear the taller man’s opinion she asked, “What changed?”

 

“Hamilton.”

  
Angelica hummed in response, and with that the elevator doors finally opened and she turned back to him, “Have good day, Thomas.”  


“You too, Angelica.”  
  


 

  
\--- 

 

 

  
The door slammed shut and Alexander ran over to his desk, grabbing the edge it to keep himself from collapsing. He took in deep breaths one after the other, trying to get his breathing to stabilize. The last thing he needed right now was a panic attack.  He felt his breathing finally stilled and collapsed in his chair. Alex dragged his arms across his face in frustration he needed to get to work. Reaching for his bag, he pulled out his laptop, opened it on his desk and began a new doc. He began to start organizing all the finances, so he could get a basis of where to start on his report.

  
  
After typing a few base paragraphs, he got off his chair walking towards his filing cabinet pulling out all the documents they had from the past year. Sitting back down, Alexander got started, trying to get lost in his work so he could stop his running thoughts from focusing on Charles.

 

 _Charles_. He read a little bit faster, gripping the paper causing it to ripple.

  
  
_Charles_. He put the paper down quickly, grabbing another.

  
  
_Charles_. Alexander slammed the wrinkled papers down on his desk, his breathing elevated.

  
  
“Damn it.” He whispered under his breath and leaned back on his chair, burying his face in his hands. Even alone at work the man always seemed to torment him, whether it was body or mind, or both. Shaking his head, Alexander got back to work, hopefully so he could calm his anxiety before it got out of hand.  
  
  


 

\---

 

 

  
Alexander’s head snapped up as he heard knocking on his door. Who the hell? He got up quickly scrambling over, to pull it open.

 

“Jefferson?” The man smirked, teeth showing and walked inside. Alexander didn’t even try to stop him just moved aside and closed the door. The tall man proceed to sit down on the couch leaving Alexander, confused by the doorway.  After a few seconds, it became quite obvious Jefferson wasn’t going to say anything. So he resigned and walked over sitting across from the man on the couch.

 

Alexander’s eyes narrowed warily, very suspicious and asked him quietly, “What do you want?” Jefferson loved to taunt him, much less than before but it seemed he couldn’t help to take the advantage of the fact Alexander wouldn’t fight back, anymore.  

 

The Caribbean watched as the taller man, tilt his head, in sign of playfulness, still smirking, _god he was always smirking._ “Wanna go for lunch?”

 

_What the fuck._

 

Alexander brain crashed, as if it was an extremely old operating system. _What the fuck was going on? The hell was Jefferson trying to get at? What did he want?_ Sure, they didn’t try to kill each other every five minutes anymore and since they didn't argue as much. And, Alexander found his presence to be _not that bad_ , but they weren’t friends or anything. Not Alexander would be adverse to that.

 

Unless, Jefferson was playing him and this was all little stupid game to him. Alexander was always bad at mind games. Oh, and did Charles love mind games, to twist and turn and fuck around, until he left Alexander confused and vulnerable. Then, what if Charles asked Jefferson, to fuck with him? No- No.. no- way that wasn’t possible. But what if... it was?

_What if-_

 

_What if-_

 

_What if-_

 

“Hey.” He felt something warm grab his hand, pulling him back and grounding him. He lifted his head up and saw Jefferson's warm, dark, brown eyes staring at him, filled with worry? No, not possible, but he did have really nice eyes. Not again, he had to stop thinking like this, he already had, someone. Plus, he was pretty sure Jefferson didn’t like him. _Then why is he asking me to lunch?_ Alexander realizing he still hadn't answered Jefferson’s question pulled his hands away from the taller man, the tips of his ears warming up.

 

“Lunch, um.. I-”

 

As he stuttered he felt himself get warmer, _what an idiot, getting worked up over hand holding._ Though, Charles never held his hand, he just wasn’t used to such _pleasant_ contact, that's all.

 

“I thought we could start tossing some ideas for the speech, and it was already lunch time, you usually never eat... so I thought I’d ask.” Jefferson trailed off, and Alexander thought he might of heard a bit of disappointment in Jefferson's tone.

 

But, Alex, still didn’t answer. He was still had Jefferson’s voice replaying in his head like a broken record. He knew that Alexander never ate, he took notice of it? And, Alexander, god help him, it made him feel giddy, like he had someone who cared for him- but wait.. he did he had Charles. At least, that what he tried to convince himself of. He really needed to stop thinking about Charles, it made him anxious. Maybe, maybe the lunch thing wasn’t such a bad idea. They could get some work, and Alex could get his mind off Charles, when Jefferson was around, he always seemed to forget about the other man. So, he looked up at the taller man, who was still sitting on the couch, waiting, and spoke, “Yea. Okay, let's go.” _This could be good._ Jefferson lips quirked up in response and he gave a bright genuine smile, teeth and all. Alexander’s faced burned and for once, he wasn’t thinking about Charles.

 

 _God, he has such a nice smile_.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to do each chapter with in a week so there that and im such a mess my gawd. 
> 
> Oh and coming up next: LUNCH DATE YAYAYAY! (and then after that more suffering mwhaha not really a lunch date tho)
> 
> hit me up: on my [tumblr](https://dowhateveryouwantimsuperdead.tumblr.com/)


	5. Why? Why? Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stupid, stupid, stupid, Jefferson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm- my hand slipped and i'm sorry. (Also sorry for all the mistakes will edit later.. this literally just their two p.o.vs)
> 
> I'm kinda sad there no suffering this one, but it will all be in the next one mwhaha ;))))
> 
> Thank you for all the comments kudos and overall support! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Alex eyed the tall man next to him. They were walking to a nearby cafe. It was nice out, the sun was shining and the wind was warm for January, everything felt peaceful, calm everything expect Alexander’s mind. He couldn’t help but worry, worry, and worry. The “what ifs” circulating around and around in his mind.  
  
_What if Charles found out?_

  
  
_What if he did something stupid?_

  
  
_What if this was all a ploy?_

  
_What if-_

  
  
_What if-_

  
  
_What if-_

  
  
Then again, it wasn’t odd for coworkers to go to lunch together, right? Everything would be fine. Everything would be fine . Alexander took a deep shaky breath trying to reassure himself. Then, Alexander shoulders jerked upwards, flinching as an unexpected hand dropped down on his shoulder, immediately pulling him from his thoughts. The hand was removed almost as suddenly as it came and Alex looked up at Jefferson, confused.

  
“We’re here.” He said pointing to a small corner cafe. Alexander nodded adjusting his messenger bad, awkwardly, and began to walk towards the entrance. It was nice inside, really nice. The cafe felt rustic, home-y, it gave off a “back-then” kind of feeling without looking old.

  
“I figured you’d like it.” Jefferson smirked at him his head tilted at a slight angle. “You seemed to have a thing for old American stuff.”

  
He wasn’t wrong. Alexander always had a fascination with the American history, the revolutionary war, the first treasury secretary, the federalists papers, things of that nature. If he hadn’t done so well in business he may have been a American history professor. What he didn't’ get was-

  
“How did you know that?” he asked as they walked towards a table, trying to speak loud enough so Jefferson could hear him.

  
  
“Oh! He speaks!” Alexander frowned at that and turned his head, looking away from Jefferson, _what an asshole_. Why did he even agree to this?

 

“Hamilton, hey, I’m kidding come on.”

 

Even as they sat down, Alexander refused to look at him.

  
“Your kidding, right? Hey Hamilton.”

  
Alexander didn't move.

  
“Hamilton.” Jefferson drawled.

  
Not an inch.

  
Alexander saw Jefferson developed a stupid smirk and tried, “Hammy? Hammy?”

  
Hammy, what a stupid nickname. Yet, Alexander was trying his best to keep himself from smiling. Stupid Jefferson.

  
“Hey, I’m sorry. Alexander?”

  
The Caribbean's head snapped forward to look at Jefferson so fast it might have cracked. “Whatever.” Alexander said quietly rolling his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. Soon after a bubbly waitress came bouncing to their small table in the corner with menus and waters. Alexander ignored the entire part for when she flirted with Jefferson and started at his phone, but unable to scroll down. She gave them lunch specials and skipped away. Thank god, their flirting gave Alexander a burning feeling in gut, it wasn’t jealousy, no that was stupid. He was, annoyed? Yes, annoyed, that was exactly it.  

  
“Do you know what you want?” Jefferson asked.

Alexander shook his head, “No.”

  
“Well, I’d recommended the-” Jefferson had gone on some tirade about the food in the cafe. Alex wasn’t really listening, but he heard him say macaroni somewhere in there. He was too busy stuck on Jefferson’s stupid face, and his stupid smile. He couldn’t stop staring at it. Was it considered cheating if he did that? Charles did it all the time. Charles had _sex_ with _other people_ all the time. Hell, Charles always made _him_ have sex with-- Alexander shivered and pushed that though far far away. He want to think about that right now. All of that and Alexander didn’t mind. Then again he wasn’t Charles; Charles was better than him. He should probably stop, Charles hated when he looked at other people he’d always--

“Hamilton?”

“Hmm?”  
  
“What do you think?” Alexander unknowing what Jefferson was talking about just nodded assuming it had to do with the food. He was used to this anyway. Charles never let him order for himself when they went out, or pick out his own clothes, or talk, or do anything of much. He usually was just there to be-- _my pretty little bitch, isn’t that right Alexander?_ \--arm candy, especially if they were with other people.

  
“Great!” The taller man gave him another one of his bright smiles, again distracting Alexander, and beckoned over the waitress Jefferson started talking again ordering their food, flirting with the waitress _again_ . Alexander looked up and his eyes narrowed. She looked so familiar... _way too familiar_ . Where did he see her? Where?  He shook his head unable to figure it out and instead began to pull out his laptop so he could get started while there food was being made. After Jefferson was done with the order he did the same.

  
“So, Jefferson?” Alexander murmured quietly.

  
“So-” Jefferson said awkwardly, “You can me ‘Thomas’ if you want.”

  
“What?”

  
“Well, I mean,” He scratched the back of his head, “We're going to be working together for a month you can call me Thomas.”

  
“Oh,” Alexander nodded, “Okay, I guess you can call me, Alexander.”

  
“Okay. Cool” The sat in silence for what felt like over an hour, but not even a minute had passed.

  
“How about we start with the basics, A basic outline.” Jefferso- Thomas proposed.  
Alexander nodded, in agreement, it wasn’t a bad plan and the outline could help them get all their out ideas out.

  
“Sounds fine.”

  
The conversation had went on for a good 30 minutes at least. They planned out the basis of their speech and who would do what. In all honesty, they still disagreed, _a lot_ , but it was easier to work around since they weren’t screaming at each other. But, at one point, Alexander got so fired up that he had raised his voice to almost a normal level and Jeffers- Thomas had _almost_ started yelling and Alexander knew he didn’t react well. He just hated loud noises, loud voices. Thomas had apologized though, which Alex wasn’t expecting, he deserved it. The food, then came at a coincidently perfect time, they had put their work and laptops to the side.

  
“What is this?” Alexander asked as poked at it with his fork letting the steam roll of from it.

  
“You didn’t listen to a word I said did you?” Thomas countered. Alexander shrugged and turned away to grab his utensils. “Just try it, it’s good.” The smaller man eyed his food warily it looked liked a fancy mac and cheese. Typical Jeffers- Thomas, Macaroni and cheese wasn’t even that good, actually it’s pretty overrated if you ask hi-  

  
“Mmm.” Alexander let out a small moan and Jeffe- Thomas’s head snapped up to look at him. Alex felt his face warm up, and ducked down avoiding Jefferson’s gaze.

  
“M’ Sorry.” He said sheepishly, his mouth still full of food.

  
“Told you.” Jeffe-Thomas’s smugness was radiating so far off him that Alexander could practically _feel_ it. They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Jeff-Thomas began talking again.

  
“Why were you late today, you're never late?” Alexander considered telling Jefferson to mind his own business, but it's not like he had any idea of what was going on. So Alexander did what he always did, lie.

  
“I accidentally set the alarm at 6:00pm instead of am.” Thomas nodded accepting Alexander lie for truth, and Alex mentally sighed hoping that was it. It wasn’t.  

  
“How come Laurens didn’t wake you up?”

  
“What?” Thomas thought he was dating, John? They had broke it off so long ago, that it didn’t even hurt to joke about it, anymore. But, why would Jefferson think they were dating?

  
“Laurens? Aren’t you two dating?” Why wasn’t Jefferson dropping this? Alexander shook his head.

  
“No, I um- dating someone else it's- um-” There was no point to lying as to who, almost everybody knew anyway. Why Jefferson didn't, he didn't know. “-Charles Lee.”

  
The taller man's eyes widened in what Alexander assumed to be surprise and he whistled, “Got yourself a big shot, huh?”

  
“Yea..” Alexander smiled, he didn’t deserve Charles at all, “I’m _really_ lucky.”

  
Jef-Thomas frowned, and Alexander looked at him, questioning. So he answered, “I disagree, which is not surprising considering us, but, I think you’d be quite the catch, Alexander. Lee’s the lucky one.”

  
“W-what?” Alexander squeaked and Thomas just shrugged turning back to his macaroni, like he didn’t just say _that_ .

  
Alexander’s face caught on fire for what felt like the 50th time today.

  
_Stupid, stupid, stupid, Jefferson._  
  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


“Oh! He’s speaks!” Thomas couldn’t help it, if there was thing in the world he loved, it was pissing off Hamilton. But, then he saw the Caribbean frown at him and look away completely.

 

“Your kidding, right? Hey Hamilton, come on.” He tried reaching for him, but remembered last time Hamilton flinched at his touch. He still didn’t move. “Hamilton.” He said trying yet again, and again, while smirking this time, “Hammy? Hammy?” Trying to make Hamilton just look at him again. His shoulders slumped and he resigned defeat, “Hey, I’m sorry. Alexander?” Finally, the short man’s head snapped back around to face Thomas and he mocked cheered in his head.

 

“Whatever.” Hamilton said sounding still annoyed, but Thomas could see the smile on his lips even if it was small. It made Thomas pleased to see Hamilton smil-

 

_What. Was. He. Thinking._

 

These thoughts or whatever it was that he had need to go, away, far, far away. Thomas try to flag a waiter down so he could distract himself by ordering something. A waitress came bouncing towards him, and smiled brightly at Thomas.

 

“Hello~, names Martha and I’ll be your server today.” She winked at him and then looked at Hamilton, her eyes lingering a bit too long, something akin to surprise and _worry_ flashed in her eyes. Thomas ignored the whole ordeal and just smirked back at her, she was a nice distraction, _very nice distraction_.    

 

“Names Thomas and I must ask you come here often?” She laughed at that even though it was pretty bad attempt, and twirled her hair, playing along.

 

“Not really, just Mondays, Wednesday, and Thursday, What about you, hun?”

 

Thomas chuckled, “No, not really, only second time here, I think?”

 

“Oh…” Martha said playfully sad then quirked up again, “Well then, since I’m bring you lunch, wanna bring me dinner sometime?” She handed him a napkin and he took it happily.

 

“Not bad, not bad, I think I’ll have to take you up on this.”

 

“You better.” She gave him another smile and then whispered, “I see my boss coming around so gotta go do my job, now. But, It was nice talking to you, Thomas.” She quickly gave them the specials, complimentary waters and then walked away her hips sashaying behind her. Not that he was watching.

 

Jefferson turned back around to face Hamilton and noticed him staring at his phone his lips puffed out in a cute pout, and yet again he felt his chest warm up.

 

Yea, he _definitely_ was calling Martha.

 

This needed to stop. To have _thoughts_ for someone already taken, for someone who probably didn’t even like him, was ridiculous. Thomas didn’t even know where they came from? Who knows maybe they’ve alway been there but kept at bay by their arguing and annoyance. But, with that gone the dam was broken and he felt himself flooded. These feelings were small though, they were nothing, _miniscule_ , they could be stopped, a new wall could be rebuilt. As long as he didn’t push the already falling apart one he had, he would be fine.

 

“Do you know what you want?” He asked trying to be as blunt as possible. Just don’t say anything stupid. Don't think anything stupid.

 

Then Hamilton shook his head, “No.” This was good. Just short, unfeeling responses back and forth, he could handle that.

 

“Well, I’d recommended the pasta here is really good, especially the macaroni.” Thomas found himself passionate telling Hamilton, who barely looked like his was listening, about the cafe’s food. Their macaroni was fantastic. Honestly, to Thomas, all macaroni was fantastic. Especially, macaroni and cheese, that was even better. Thomas considered it, food from the gods even. When he finally finished talking he looked at Hamilton for his opinion, “What do you think?” No response. “Hamilton?” 

 

“Hmm?”

“What do you think?” The shorter man just nodded still looking out of it. Thomas assumed he was just tired, probably a lot going on. Well, Thomas _knew_ he had a lot going on, but that wasn’t his business. He caught Martha’s eye again and called her over.

 

“Missed me that bad?” She asked teasingly while smirking. He laughed and told her some witty comment back.

 

“Ha Ha.” Martha mock giggled, “So you’ve decided, on what you guys are having?”

 

“Yea, the pasta special for both of us, and two cokes.”

 

“You got it, darlin’.” She snapped her fingers and walked away.

 

Thomas turned back around to find Hamilton pulling out his laptop. He found himself doing the same, might as well get started, while their food was being made.

 

“So, Jefferson?”

"So-.” What a way to start a conversation, smooth Thomas. Real smooth. He then felt himself sweat and start to panic a little so he just-- 

 

“You can me ‘Thomas’ if you want.”

 

What. 

  
“What?” He heard Hamilton extremely confused.

 

_Why? Why? Why did he say that?_

 

Now he had to find a believable excuse for it. “Well, I mean,” His hand found the back of his head and began to scratch it sheepishly, “We're going to be working together for a month you can call me, Thomas.” Hamilton was a silent for a moment but he just nodded.

“Oh, Okay, I guess you can call me, Alexander.” Alexander, huh? That was going to take sometime to getting used to.   

 

“Okay. Cool.” They sat in a awkward silence waiting for the other to make a move. It became obvious, Hamilto-Alexander was not going to say anything. Thomas never thought he’d ever say this, but keeping up a conversation with Hamilt-Alexander was, _hard_ . He _still_ wasn’t used to the idea that Hamil- Alexander didn’t talk and talk, rambling, words dripping out of his mouth followed by exaggerated hands motion flying everywhere. It was unsettling to be reminded of what the other man had become. A complete opposite; a total contrast. So, the responsibility fell on Thomas to carry the conversation.

 

“How about we start with the basics, A basic outline.”

Alexander nodded, “Sounds fine.”

 

Thomas gave Alexander a nod back and they began throwing basic ideas around, beginning the outline of their laptops. He found Hami-Alexander to be easy to bounce ideas off and honestly an overall good conversationalist, even if Thomas couldn’t hear him at times. They had a few small stupid disagreements like--

 

“We should use google docs.”

 

“What? No word is better.”  

 

Or

 

“Who uses Georgia to write in?”

 

“I think it’s a pretty good font.”

 

“Verdana is better.”

 

“No-”

 

Their conversation went on for a good 20 minutes until they finally disagreed on something big.

 

“Please, delete this.” Ham-Alexander asked polite and quiet. Every time he spoke it was always quiet, polite and short.

 

Thomas huffed, “No, we need this part.”

 

“No, we don’t.”

 

“Without it, your paragraph doesn’t make sense, _we needed it_.” After that Ha-Alexander was quiet for a few minutes and Thomas dumbly assumed he won but-

 

“What the hell,” He muttered on his breath. _That ass_. Why the fuck did Thomas ever think he was cute? Alexander, apparently took the liberty to just deleting Thomas entire section he didn’t like, well two can play that game. Thomas cracked his knuckles and got ready to type.  

 

“What the..” He heard Alexander he could see him scrolling back and forth frantically on his computer. “What did you do?”

 

Thomas was slightly disappointed expecting more of a reaction, his voice was controlled still quiet, small, not letting any emotion seep through. But revenge is revenge either way. “I fixed it.” Alexander looked offended, and Thomas smirked at him.

 

“That part was _important_.”

 

“Mine was important too.”

 

“ _Well_ , yours didn’t make sense.” He heard Alexander raise his voice, far higher than Thomas ever heard it in a very long time.

 

“Didn’t make sense.” Thomas felt a familiar but oddly distant anger boil up in his stomach, “Excuse me, yours wasn’t too clear either.”

 

_Shit._

 

He shouldn’t have yelled. _He really shouldn’t have yelled._ But, it was all to difficult to not get caught up in the moment. To feel like had _his_ Alexander back for a moment, and he ruined it. He watched miserable as, Hamilton flinched, his shoulders drooping, eyes lowered to the ground. He curled up back into his seat, hiding the defenseless parts of his body, waiting, waiting. He even started stuttering and Thomas felt a pain in his chest, he _never_ wanted to see Alexander like this again. He never wanted to be the cause of it again. He was so _vulnerable, so helpless._

 

“I I-I’m sorry. Umm- y-you're right... It was pretty b-bad.”

 

“No-no no, _I’m sorry,_ I was being stupid. I’m more than sure we can compromise on something, right?”

 

Alexander gave him a nod and a quiet, “Right.” And Thomas felt himself smile seeing him relax slightly. Before they got around to doing that, the food had came and Thomas picked up his fork and began eating.

 

“What is this?” Alexander asked poking at it with his fork.

 

“You didn’t listen to a word I said did you?” Thomas said his lips pursed in annoyance, “Just try it, it’s good.” He went back to eating his food a scrolling through his social media, Ben with yet another fucking meme, Abigail posting about something STEM related, she was too good for John Adams, Lafayette had some weird french-

 

“Mmmm-”

 

Thomas felt his cheeks warm up, thank god for his dark skin that others couldn’t see him blush. After hearing such a content yet almost lewd sounding moan, coming from Hamilton of all people, how could he not.

 

“M’ Sorry.” He saw pinkish-red overtake Alexander’s cheeks and ears and Thomas refrained from commenting on how adorable he looked.

 

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

 

Instead the went for the most arrogant and cocky sounding ‘I told you so’ he could manage at that moment. They kept eating in a comfortable silence the only sound was of forks hitting their plates or one of them picking up their glass. Yet, Thomas couldn’t stop thinking about this morning, he knew he shouldn’t, it wasn’t his business and yet--

 

“Why were you late today, you're never late.” Alexander didn’t answer him at first, just looked to the side, as if he could avoid the question.

 

Then Thomas heard a small, quiet, voice and strained his ears to hear it, “I accidentally set the alarm at 6:00pm instead of am.” He was ready to accept that answer, to not push any further, but he let his curiosity get the better of him, he let his dam collapse, and the questions flooded through.

 

“How come Laurens didn’t wake you up?” Thomas knew they weren’t dating; but he didn’t know _who_ Hamilton was dating, if Alexander corrected him he would finally find out-- But then Thomas had second thoughts.

 

_Did he actually even want to know?_

 

To have a face to put to the bruises on Alexander’s neck?

 

To have someone to blame for Alexander quiet persona?

 

To know.. would that be too much?

 

“What?” He could stop it here. He could say nevermind and turn back. Never talk about this subject again. This was his last chance to back out and--

 

“Laurens? Aren’t you two dating?”

 

“No, I um- dating someone else it's- um-”

 

_This was it._

 

The moment he’s been waiting for.

 

To finally put a face to the to the _bruises_ , and the _silence_ , the _quiet_ , to finally _know_.  

 

“-Charles Lee.”

 

_What?_

 

Thomas felt his eyes widened, and he hoped Hamilton thought it was out of surprise, because all he could feel was a impending, cold sinking feeling in his gut.

 

Charles Lee.

 

Well, he’ll be damned.

 

Thomas _knew_ him.

 

Thomas knew him, _knew him,_ and not just because they were from rivaling companies. Being rich had its perks; being rich also made sure you had every phone of every other rich man and woman out there. Thomas has been invited to many of Lee’s aristocratic, slightly illegal, auctions, his high-class events and parties, and etc. Hell there was one coming up. _There was one coming up._

 

Thomas _knew_ Charles Lee.

 

Thomas now knew that Charles Lee and Alexander Hamilton were a _thing_.

 

Thomas now knew that Charles Lee _abused_ Alexander Hamilton.

 

Thomas now knew that-- that... that he couldn’t do anything about this. It wasn’t his place to step and play hero. It wasn’t his place, _he couldn’t._ Thomas took all his feelings, every little piece of anger, every sliver of affection, every fragment of pity and locked it all away because he couldn’t care; because it wasn’t in his place to care.

 

“Got yourself a big shot, huh?”

 

“Yea..” He watched Hamilton blush and smile to himself, _why did love someone who didn’t even-- ,_ “I’m _really_ lucky.”

 

He _knew_ it wasn’t his place to play hero and yet despite everything, he _wanted_ to. He tried to restrain his thoughts and feelings, and his stupid emotions for Alexander. But he felt himself talking before he realized,

 

“I disagree, which is not surprising considering us, but, I think you’d be quite the catch, Alexander. Lee’s the lucky one.” Holy shit, why, why, why did he say _that_ ? Out of everything he could have said, everything he could have chosen to say. _He said that._

 

 _“W-what?”_ He heard Alexander’s voice squeak and he quickly decided, that maybe his own embarrassment was worth it if he got to see Alexander’s cheeks turn red because of him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can this even be considered slow burn anymore? 
> 
> I think i made them like each other to much?
> 
> Trust me thought its gonna be a while before they even considered it. ( I might even have Thomas go on that date with Martha hehe)
> 
> Ughh what have i done!!
> 
> hit me up: on my [tumblr](https://dowhateveryouwantimsuperdead.tumblr.com/)


	6. Forty? Fifty? Sixty?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn’t last long.
> 
> Nothing good ever does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorrrryyyyyyyyyy this chapter is so late!!!! But its finally here right? 
> 
> And guys... 200 kudos I'm crying, 2300 hits ahhhhhh thank you all I tried my best to make this one good for you guys!!!!
> 
> Thank you guys for all the love and kudos and comments, it really keeps me going!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Thomas had insisted on paying the bill and Alexander let him, but he left the tip. Both of them had gathered their bags and left the cafe in a comfortable silence. It was around 2:30, when they arrived back at the office and where currently on the elevator back up to their respective offices.

“So-”

Alexander looked down at the floor, fidgeting awkwardly, “...Thanks.. for lunch...”

“Yea, you’re welcome.”

They stood in silence after that, waiting for the elevator to reach their floor. Finally, with a soft ‘ding’, the doors opened and they stepped out at the same time, their shoulders brushing slightly. Alexander’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, wondering if he should say something, but Thomas beat him too it.  

 

“Hey, uh, would- would you want to go again, next week?” _Again?_ Thomas wanted to go again? Alexander couldn’t stop the small smile that took over his lips, no matter how much he resisted.

 

“Yea... yea okay.” Maybe, maybe, Thomas actually _enjoyed_ his company, that thought left Alexander with a foreign but warm feeling in chest. _Maybe... they could actually be friends?_ No.. no, Thomas wouldn’t want to be friends with someone so _Pathetic, worthless, useless._

 

“Okay, I’ll see you, Alexander.” He gave a half wave and walked down his hallway.

  
“See you... Thomas.” It was still a little weird saying Jefferson’s first name outloud.

 

The short male turned and walked back to his office, sinking into his plush office chair. Alex felt weird, a good weird, but still weird. He felt light, as if he was floating on cloud, his mind clear.

 

It didn’t last long.

 

Nothing good ever does. 

 

Alexander’s phone dinged next to him on his desk and he picked up carefully.

  
**Charles: Be home by 5:30, I’m disappointed, Alexander.**

 

Alexander let out a small giggle.

 

Then another, louder this time, tears prickling the corner of his eyes. He threw his back laughed at the top of his lungs his hands covering his face trying to stop himself, but he couldn’t, his throat burned, his stomach ached and he couldn’t stop laughing, falling deeper and deeper in his own mania. He couldn’t stop, _he couldn’t stop_ , because it was all too funny to him.  

 

Nothing _ever_ went right.

 

For one day nothing could ever go _right_ . Charles, probably found out. _Charles probably found out._ He let out another squeaky giggle, his voice cracking-

 

He was _fucked._

 

He let his head fall on desk wrapping his arms around himself, wouldn’t be wonderful if he could pass out and never wake up?

 

Before, he knew it there were warm droplets covering the wooden surface. Look at him, pathetic, disgraceful _\--little bitch, that's all you are, don’t you ever forget it_ . Alexander  sniffled and wiped his tears away letting smear on his cheeks. But what was the point when more came rushing, _pouring_ down? He couldn’t stop moving _-his heart racing, his body shaking, chest pounding-_ and _feeling_ and- and all he ever wanted was to _stop_ . To stop breathing, moving and feeling, to stop _everything_. Alexander felt his breathing become labored, they were now coming out short and small, he felt lightheaded the room getting smaller, closing in on him.  

He needed- he needed-

 

Where was it?

 

Where did he leave it?

 

He needed it-

 

_He needed-_

 

Alexander rummaged through his drawers, opening and closing them quickly looking for the right one. Where was it? Where? His shaky hands shuffled, moving around files and pens and papers, throwing them around and onto the floor, until he finally found it, a small white bottle. With shaky, sweaty hands he could barely hold onto it. Alexander opened it too quickly the bottle slipping from his hands. He let out a pathetic whine watching the small little pills littering the floor, _fuck_ , fuck, Charles was going to be so mad he wasted them. Charles was already mad, _disappointed_ , his breathing quickened, his head dizzy, everything spinning, he needed it-

 

“Fuck…fuck..” He whispered as he practically fell out of his chair crawling on knees to pick the little blue pills, his tears spilling now more than ever. He couldn’t do anything right, couldn't do anything, fucking idiot, so stupid, can’t open a container properly. He picked up each pill shoving back in the bottle, hoping he found them all. He crawled back in his chair shoving two pills in his mouth and grabbed the water bottle next to him helping him swallow. Finally, finally, he could- he felt himself get drowsy, his panic fading away, and he smiled.

 

Alexander let his head fall back on the chair and drifted away.

 

 

_\---_

 

 

  
He parked the car in the giant driveway and walked to the front door jumbling his keys. He walked inside, his eyes roaming looking for-

 

“Alexander.” 

  
“Charles..” He was pissed. He was so, so mad. He knew. He knew. _He knew._ Alexander could tell by the look on his face. Charles never _really_ had explosive anger it was more icy, simmering right below the surface, and Alexander could _see_ it in his eyes, in his clenched jaw, in his tightened fist. 

 

Charles walked into the living and Alexander trailed behind him, head down, silent. He lead him to the table in the living room and pointed to it. What could he say? Besides the fact that he was fucked. There a few pictures, all having him sitting across the table from another man, thank god whoever took the photos made Thomas’s face blurry. If Charles found who, then Thomas would be ruined for the rest of his life.

 

“What the fuck is this?” He growled, his teeth barred and seething, he was _furious._

 

 _“_ I I-I- it's- nothing, Charl-” A loud sounded echo through the room as his face stung and pain ran over his cheeks, his eyes blurred. That was going to bruise. Charles was usually careful where he hit him, _usually_.

 

“I _really_ don't understand Alexander.” He walked around the smaller man circling him like prey, waiting for the perfect opening to bite. “I gave you everything. Without me, you would be _nothing_ . I fixed you, Alexander, helped you. And _this_ is how you repay me. ” He shoved Alex forward, making him trip on his feet and fall onto the hardwood, landing with a sudden _crack_ , “I thought you were done, being a _slut_ , apparently not.” He spat. “You _begged_ me, ‘I’m done, Charles, I can’t do it anymore, I only want to be yours, yours.’ And you know what I did, Alexander, for some god awful reason I listened to you. I told James enough, I got you _out,_ didn’t I?”  

 

Alexander nodded fervently, “Yes, sir.”

 

“..And you just continue to be a whore right under my nose.If you want to be one so badly Alexander I have no problem speaking with James, in fact, it would be good for you, learn how privileged you are that I helped you.”

 

“No-no no sir, please sir.” He was done with that lifestyle, it wasn’t- he _couldn’t-_

 

“Excuse me?” Charles clicked his tongue, “Talking back to me too?” Charles unbuckled the belt from his dress pants, “On your knees.”

 

Alexander scrambled forward on the hardwood as fast he could, he had to be good, he had to be good for Charles. He shivered as he felt the rough imported leather belt drag across his face, tapping lightly on the red handprint painted across his face.  

 

“I’m disappointed in you, Alexander. Of course, I am partially to blame, I’ve been far, far too lenient with you. Do you even remember anything I’ve taught you? Do yoy think, I’ll have to reteach you?” Charles paused to run the belt down his back lightly tapping, reminding Alexander of what was to come. “I honestly would love to, but we have some press matters to attend to. Who’s the man, Alexander?”

 

“Um-II-I-Dont-”

 

 _“-Ahh!”_ Alexander screamed as Charles smacked down the belt.  

 

He then huffed, as if this whole thing inconvenienced him greatly, “Wrong answer.” Alexander couldn’t tell Charles about Thomas. He would make sure Alex never saw him again- never spoke to him again.  Whether if that was by hurting Thomas or him he didn’t know.

 

“Try again.”

 

“I-I don't know-” Alexander tried and the cracked of the belt hit his back with resounding smack and he bit his lip to refrain to screaming.

 

“Goddamn it, Alexander, you fucking pathetic disgrace, you never listen. _Try again_.”

 

He didn’t know what to say.

 

_He didn’t know what to say._

 

He felt his throat close up, the room getting smaller, his vision dizzy, and he resisted the urge to shiver. The tap, tap, tap, tapping of the rough leather behind, just waiting, _waiting to-_

 

“...Thomas..” He whispered, quietly under his breath.

 

“Speak up, You're wasting all of my patience, Alexander.”

 

“Tho-You’re right. That man, he never told me his name, just wanted-.” Charles chuckled loudly, the belt on his back tapping harder, faster, building and building.

 

“Fuck I knew it, once a whore, always a whore.”

 

Alexander let out a high pitched scream as the metal part of Charles belt slammed onto his back.  It burned and It hurt. It felt like his entire body was on fire, flames burn him from the inside out, the pain swallowing him whole. He unconsciously arched up and Charles smacked the belt down again.

 

“See, that wasn’t that hard was it, to tell the truth. Why can’t you be this good for me all the time?” He sighed again, “Come Alexander, you know the drill.”  

 

Alexander nodded quickly, tears falling down his cheeks on to the rug. How could he ever forget? The pain he went through to remember all the rules was worse than this. And, Everything hurt, _everything hurt_ , the fire running up and down his back, the bruises at his sides in dull pulasting pain. He wanted nothing more than to curl with his pills and just drift away, for good maybe.  

 

“Repeat them for me, in order.”

 

“Don’t lie.”  
  
“Don’t touch the money.” He didn’t know the password to the bank account.  
  
“Don't buy unnecessary things.” The only thing Alexander was allowed to buy was food.

  
“Be home when you say.” The usually curfew was 10:00, but if he asked nicely sometimes Charles would extend it to 11:00.  
  
“Cover my bruises.” As if he wouldn’t. Alex didn’t need anyone to see them.  
  
“Don't make you wait.” This one mostly had to do with sex, if Charles wanted to fuck, Alexander better be ready or it would hurt, _a lot._  
  
“Don't talk when you say.” Back then, Alexander always had trouble with this one now he didn’t say much anyway.  
  
“Don’t talk to anyone without your permission.”  
  
“Don't go out on weekdays.” Alexander never did.  
  
“Don't fuck anyone without your permission.”

The tapping of the belt slowed down, and Charles hummed happily, “What a good boy. Yet you’ve been so bad lately. Am I getting this behavior because I’m letting you work? This only happened because you went to work.”

 

“No- no--”

 

“I don’t remember letting you talk.” Charles smacked him on his ass making it sting. “Maybe you should quit early, Alexander?”

 

“No, sir, please, no-no-no I promise I’ll be good. I promise- I promise, _please._ ” Charles wanted him to quit. He’d been asking since Alexander moved in with him. Charles would argue that he had enough for the both of them, which wasn’t wrong. But, Alex wanted to work, this company was his passion, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t stop working. _He didn't want to._ He didn’t want to stay home all day. He didn't want to just cook and clean. He didn’t want to be Charles’s little housewife, his goddamn maid. His stupid little housewife, just there to cook, clean, and fuck.

 

“I’ll consider, letting you stay, depending on how well you behave for me right now. But, either way Alexander, we still have the deal and don’t even think your company going to have a chance this year, Alexander, Seasbury is fucking King. Now, how many of my rules have you broken this week, Alexander? Three, four? I bet five, so how many to give you?”

 

“Forty lashes? Fifty? Sixty?” Alexander curled trying to brace himself, his back was going to be _hell_.

 

“Fifty will do, I think. Remember to count my dear. When I’m done with you here, Make sure to pack my bags, then go make dinner, be finished before 9:00.”

 

“Yes-s, sir.”

 

“Good, boy.”

 

Alexander screamed, _“One!”_ As Charles hit him again and _again and_ again, harder and _harder_ , the belt making a resounding smack, echoing throughout the house. It was _ceaseless_ -

 

_“Two!”_

 

_“Three!”_

 

_“Four!”_

 

_“F-five!”_

 

_“S-six!”_

 

There was no room to breath, no room to see, to hear. He was dizzy, disoriented. After every hit there was another, and another, _and another_. He yelled, he and screamed, he and cried, and pleded, and prayed and begged for it to-

 

 _“Fifteen!”_ He cried, “Stop, please- please Charles please, stop, stop, stop it hurts!”

 

“No baby. You deserve it, this your fault, do you understand? This is all your fault.”

 

“My fault! My fault! I'm so sorry Charles, I deserve it, I deserve it.” His tears almost painted on his face like shiny crystals, fragile, glassly. Charles lift his hand and it the belt came down once more.

 

_“Sixtee-!”_

 

 

_\---_

 

 

The Caribbean moved slowly around their shared bedroom gathering Charles’s clothes and necessities packing them neatly in the suitcase. The urge to take a break was overwhelming but his lower half was stinging beyond belief, to sit down it would hurt ever more. After Charles was done with the belt he bent him over the couch and-

 

_“B-but Charles no prep, it-”_

 

_“That’s why it's called punishment, baby. Stop whinging. This your fault.”_

 

At least he never asked about the company event, he was still dreading that conversation. Alexander sighed weary, his breath shaking, his body aching, it was already 8:00 he had to get dinner done by 9:00. He finished packing as quickly as he could and zipped up the suitcase. Alex brought it to the front lobby of the house, trying desperately to ignore the fiery pain. He flinched as a loud ‘ding’ echoed through the house, the doorbell, _it’s just the doorbell_ . He wasn’t usually allowed to open the door, but Charles was currently upstairs getting ready, he hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for it. Then he wished he never opened the door at all, the man standing in front of him gave him a wolfish smile, his canines gleaming.  
  
“Alexander, nice to see you.”

 

“Mr. Reynolds.” Alexander replied back as civilly as he could. If there was one man he hated in this world it had to be, James Reynolds. Said man stepped inside and Alexander closed the door behind him.

 

“Where is Charles?”

 

“Upstairs.” Alexander replied short.

 

“Hm.” he hummed. “I think I'll wait down here then.”

 

Alexander eyed the man warily as he stepped closer into Alexander’s proximity. His hands found their way to Alexander’s face tracing his cheekbones lightly.

 

“Really, though, it’s been so long, how is my favorite _whore_?”

 

He shuddered in utter disgust and turned away, trying to walk towards the kitchen. “Excuse me, but I have to go make dinner.”

 

“Wait, Lexii!” His breathing stopped. That was... his alias for when he was- Reynolds grabbed him by the wrist pulled him close, chest to chest, his other hand wrapping around the small of his back. Alexander bit his lip, all he felt was fire, pain, everything burning and James must have noticed as he gripped tighter.

 

“Please let me go.”

 

“No. Nice try though.”

 

“You have a wife.”

 

“Well, she’s not as cute as you.” He leaned down and whispered his voice poisonous to Alexander’s ear, “Plus, I do miss the way you use to take me, so tight, and you were so loud, screaming and moaning for me.”

 

“I am done with that life.” He looked away struggling in Reynolds grip. “Please, Let me g-”

 

 _“Alexander!”_ Alex flinched and fell limp in the man's grip as he heard Charles’s voice from the stairs. “Do I have punish you, _again_?”

 

“No, sir! I’m sorry, sir.” Alex pleaded desperately.

  
“‘No, sir! I’m sorry, sir’” James mocked him, chuckling, smiling up at Charles, “Jesus, what do you do to him, Charles? Where’s my feisty little Lexii? Ha! I love it, so obedient, I bet you’d let me fuck you without even a fight?” The man holding him chuckled and dipped down to press his lips to Alexander’s. _He fucking hated Reynolds_ but with Charles’s watching there was nothing he could do, he had to show Charles he could be good, _he could_. The taller man bit his lip and Alexander yelped, as he felt blood run down his lip. The fucking asshole took the opening to shove his tongue in Alexander’s mouth, gripping his waist tighter, pulling him closer. He gasped loudly at the roaring pain and the stinging becoming louder, blaringly obvious. Reynolds’s hand had slipped its way up to his hair pulling on it roughly, making Alex whimper. And he resigned letting the taller man have his way with him.

 

Fucking finally he had pulled away leaving Alexander breathless and dizzy, distorted an unpleasant haze fogged over him. Reynolds smacked his ass and bit he his already bruised bottom lip to refrain from crying out, his lower half burned, _it burned_. “Go cook little maid.” Alexander turned on his high tail and ran away into the kitchen, watching James go meet Charles’s at dining table.

 

“I hope your not hard, because you're not fucking Alexander today.” The Caribbean almost dropped to his knees and prayed to the heavens after hearing Charles. Small blessing. _Small blessings._

 

“What the fuck, why not?” he heard James's reply.

 

“No time. We have a plane to catch.”

 

He sighed getting the beef out from the freezer, steak would have to do tonight. As he cooked in almost pure muscle memory, he let his mind drift, his thoughts revolving around the two men at the table. James Reynolds and Charles Lee. They were long time friends as far as Alexander knew. When Charles’s was promoted to CEO, James followed as his COO, they had an _interesting_ dynamic, to say the least. Charles took care of the company and James was his right hand. The company needed money? He’d get it. Someone needed persuading? He’d charm them of their feet. Someone needed to go? It was done. No questions asked. Of course it wasn’t like Reynolds didn’t get anything out of it, their relationship was one of mutualism. Charles supported James’s _side hobby_ by providing funds if needed, and ‘recruits’ he’d call them. Alexander knew his side hobby well, too well, it wasn’t something he liked to remember, he tried his best to lock any memories of it away. Alexander snapped out of his thinking when he heard Reynolds’s voice again, purposely too loud just for Alex to hear-

 

“Charles when are you gonna let me whore out, Alexander, again?”

 

“I’m thinking about it. We’ve talked about this.”

 

“But you know how well he does.”

 

“Considering it, James.”

 

The oven beep and Alexander went to work to quickly finish dinner, ignoring whatever he heard at the table. He didn’t hear anything, he didn’t hear anything, ignorance was bliss after all. He put the steak and sides dishes on the plate quickly bringing them to the table. Charles turned to Alexander pressing a soft kiss to his lips then pulled back, “Go get another bottle of wine, Alexander.” He followed Charles’s order and took the empty bottle and went back to the kitchen to get a new one. Charles took it the new bottle happily pouring it in his glass. “Go clean up the kitchen, you can eat afterwards.”

 

“He’d be cute in a maid’s outfit, you know. Just imagine him in that frilly dress laying on the table, his legs spread, ‘Ah! James, harder, faster!’ ”Alexander couldn't help and blush lightly at Reynolds’s dirty comment, he _did not_ sound like that. He sighed and went back to the kitchen trying ignore any more of Reynolds’s degrading comments-

 

“Imagine him riding you in that tight little dress. Fuck, I want to fuck him.”  

 

“Fuck your _wife_ you horny asshole.”

 

“She’s out making me money, unlike the piece of ass you have in your kitchen.”

 

“I’m sure you have more than one slut.”

 

He began cleaning the kitchen wiping down the counters, ignore everything Reynolds was saying. He put away any spices that were still laying around, he got so caught up in his meticulous cleaning _-he had to, had to make Charles happy-_ he didn't even notice the time fly by. “Alexander!” Charles called him from to doorway. He quickly put down the dishes he was washing and went to go meet him. “We’re leaving, I should be back by Monday night okay, baby?” Alexander nodded and leaned up to kiss his boyfriend, moaning when Charles slipped his tongue inside and tugged him closer, then reluctantly pulled apart. “Be good.”

 

“I will, I will, I love you, Charles.”

 

“I love you too baby.” And Alex melted. He didn’t deserve Charles.  

 

James huffed indignantly, “What about me?”

 

Charles rolled his eyes, “We have a plane to catch let’s go.”

 

“Have a safe flight.” Alexander said _to_ Charles and _only_ to Charles, but James had replied instead.

 

“Thanks, Lexii.” he smirked and leaned down to press his lips against Alexander in bruising kiss, before the the shorter male could turn away.

 

“Leave, _please_ .” Alexander said since Charles was far enough to not hear him, _no no, he had to be good_ , “I mean, H-have a goodnight.”

 

James smiled and stepped away from Alexander giving him mocking wave goodbye and left out the front door to go meet Charles in the limo. Alexander started at the pristine asphalt, watching the limo getting farther and farther away from his sight and when he could no longer see it finally closed the door.

 

Three days.

 

Three days he had.

 

_Three days of freedom._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes I'll go through it later.....But, What did ya think? Did I characterize Reynolds well enough? What are your theories and conspiracies?? Who took the pictures???
> 
> Leave them down below in the comments and I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible!
> 
> hit me up: on my [tumblr](https://dowhateveryouwantimsuperdead.tumblr.com/)


	7. For and For Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone.
> 
>  
> 
> He was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER IT ALMOST BEEN A MONTH GUYS OMG I M S O S O R R Y !!!!! PLEASE FORGIVE MEEEE 
> 
> Anyway I'm back, Hi.. its been awhile, but here you go CHAPTER 7!!! 
> 
> I hope you guys like it and Enjoy!
> 
> TW in tags!

Alexander laid on the bed quietly. 

 

Alone. 

 

He was alone.

 

There was no feeling of fire when he woke up, no burn on his back, no aching in his lower half, no pain, there was nothing. Just silence. It was nice the feeling of nothing. These days he felt _ too much _ , to many emotions, too many versions of the same feeling. So the feeling of nothing, of emptiness, of quiet, of silence he loved it, embraced it,  _ welcomed it _ . That never used to happen before. Before he met Charles, he was loud, and obnoxious, talked to much, he didn’t know how to stop. But Charles fixed him, molded him into quiet, bearable, tolerable, even if it was at the crack of a whip. 

 

Alexander rolled around to his stomach his back was starting to hurt again. He had to get moving, he still had work today. Plus, Philip was coming over, as well as the meeting with Laf, Herc, and John. He still didn’t move, the bed was soft and the pillows smelled lightly of Charles’s cologne. Reluctantly, he lifted himself up off the bed, then a sharp pain shot through his spine and he toppled to the floor, the sheets tangling around his body. Alex laid on the floor breathless, memories of yesterday running through his mind. He shooked his head, his body still aching and slowly got up from the hardwood, grabbing his work clothes from the closet.        

 

He made his way to the bathroom, starting the shower waiting for it to get hot. Alex examined his body. From what he could see, his back was an array of purples, blues, and blacks. The long thick sections of purple covered his back, spilling over into his sides. In some twisted sense, he couldn’t help but think they were actually rather beautiful. The reds, blues and purples that rested on his body complimenting his tan skin. His body was a canvas and Charles painted it a beautiful black and blue. 

 

That didn’t excuse that fact that they hurt. They hurt so fucking bad. And, that wasn’t mentioning all the other ones he still had. His whole body ached. But, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, because Charles liked them. It didn’t matter, because they made Charles happy. He always made sure Alexander had a few more before the old ones faded. And, if Charles was happy, Alex was too. The water was finally hot enough so Alexander jumped in, quickly washing himself being careful to avoid any marks, but it was almost impossible since they covered every inch of skin. He got out drying himself then applied healing cream to his back and every other black-blue spot. Alexander checked his phone- 5:55 -he had little bit of time left, but he wasn’t feeling to hungry. He cleaned up the bathroom putting his stuff away, then made his way to the stairwell. 

 

Alexander grabbed all of his belongings shoving it in his bag. He threw it over his shoulder and grabbed his keys, walking out the house and locked the door. It was still dark out the sun barely peeking over, making him yawn. Alex started his car, letting it warm up, before taking off to his workplace.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


He had walked to into work around 6:30. The entire building was practically still asleep. The secretary was half awake, no actually, Alexander was more than sure that he heard snoring for the young man. Quietly, he made his way into his office, enjoying the silence that came with it. Like clockwork he walked in, sat down, and immediately got to work, he had to make up for yesterday. He opened his previous document and began typing, the comfortable sound of the keyboard lulling him into tunnel vision. 

 

“Alexander, mon ami!” Alex jumped quickly turning away from his computer screen. 

 

“Lafayette?” 

 

The french man walked up to his desk leaning over it. “How long have you been here?” 

 

“Since six.” 

 

“Six! And you haven’t left since, Alexander, it’s two!” His eyes widened and he got up rather fast, pain thundering down his back. “Alexander?” Alex looked up at the windows finally noticing the how bright it was the, early afternoon sun glowing softly outside.  

 

“I need to go see Washington.” He said as he made his way to the door. 

 

“You are still coming tonight, right!” Laf called after him.

 

“Of course.” He said back hoping the french man heard him. Whatever, he could always text him. He made his way to the elevator as quickly as he could without straining his still battered body. Of course, the CEO’s office just had to be at the very top floor. The doors opened and he- 

 

“Oof.” he rammed right into a very solid chest. “Alexander, You alright?” Jefferson? His eyes widened,  _ Jefferson _ . And suddenly he was back, on the exotic hardwood his knees aching and his backing burning. He felt the flaming pain lick up his sides, heard the smack of leather on skin. Alex gasped out of breath and felt the taller man step closer to him. He couldn’t talk to Thomas anymore. No matter how much he enjoyed the other man’s company,  _ it was wrong _ . For Charles’s sake, It was better if he and Thomas -no- Jefferson didn’t speak each other, for matters other than work. And, God forbid if Charles found out again. Alex shuddered at that thought, he’d so so mad, and Alexander couldn’t go through  _ that _ again. He had to be good,  _ he said he’d be good.  _   
  


“Jefferson, I’d appreciate if you stayed away for me.” Alex said cold, unfeeling and stiff his body rigid and formal only one thing on his mind, “Just email me about the project.” He pushed past the taller man stepping in the elevator ignoring the shocked look Jefferson gave him, for Charles. He had to do this for Charles, everything-anything for the man that saved him. “And, It's Hamilton.” 

 

“Right. Hamilton.” Alex didn’t answer and stared down at his phone instead, ignoring the guilty throbbing pain in his chest. And, as the grey door closed shut he pretend he didn’t see the sad gleam in Thomas’s eyes, the pressure in chest doubling. He had to. It was the right thing to do. For him, for Thomas, and for Charles. He had to be good for Charles. 

 

Everything he did was for Charles. Only Charles.

 

 

\---

 

 

Eliza has always noticed her. She always wore this bright red dress, that flowed and curled around her body. But, no matter the day, the weather, the time, she still always looked…  _ dull _ ? Eliza didn’t know how to describe it. It was almost as if the color in her life had been drained away. As if everything had slowly lost its saturation. She came every so often -Maria- the girl in the bright red dress. And, Eliza would watch as she'd scan the flowers on display. Her eyes would run over the petunia.  Her nimble hands caressed the orchid petals gently as she smiled softly, faraway in her world.

 

Sometimes they’d lock eyes and Maria would blush lightly, pink dusted carefully over her tan skin, then she’d just as quickly, look away. And, Eliza would be left with a feeling in her chest, it felt like soft morning sun shining down on her, like the first glimpse of sun rise. Maria’s eyes would bright, gentle, but always clouded, foggy, and glossed over as if she was hiding from the world. Eliza would continue watch her silently and wonder if she'd ever buy something else -no- it was always the same, even after 30 minutes, of browsing she would come to the register and ask for the same- 

 

“A bouquet of red roses, please.” 

 

“Hmm?” Eliza replied dumbly, lost in her thoughts. 

 

“A bouquet of-” 

 

“Oh I'm so sorry -red roses?” Eliza jumped. “Of course coming right up.” She went to the back go fetch the flowers wrapping them in shiny plastic and gently set them on the table. Maria handed her payment- always the same, a hundred dollar bill, and gave her quiet thank you and cute little wave in goodbye. Unlike certain customers, Eliza didn't know when she'd see Maria again. The days she came were always random- never a fixed date. Sometimes four times a week and sometimes, once a month, and sometimes not at all. The insistent buzzing from Eliza’s phone quickly dragged her away from her thoughts. She picked up and greeted the caller, with a cheerful, “Well, if it isn’t Alexander Hamilton, thought you’d never-”

 

She heard a loud crash by the door and turned her head instinctively following the noise. Maria stood by the doorway her head turned towards Eliza, her eyes in a shocked almost  _ fearful _ expression, the bright red flowers, on the floor, laid gracefully, almost resembling split blood. 

 

Eliza covered the phone with her hand, “M-maria? Are you alright?” 

 

“...Y-yes, yes, fine. I'm sorry, so sorry. Have a good day.” She picked up her flowers and scurried out of the shop, the bell ringing behind her, it's echo rang silent throughout the shop. Eliza put the phone back up to her ear, apologizing to Alex. They finalised the meeting point and chatted for a bit before Alexander had to go again.

 

“Hey Alexander, one more thing. I know this is kind of out of nowhere, but do you know a Maria by any chance? I don't know her last name, but she has long dark brown wavy hair, it covers her left eye, she wears red a lot.” The quietness she expected, this was Alexander however the  _ silence _ she was not. When he didn't speak for a good two minutes, Eliza got her answer. 

 

“N-no, doesn't ring a-a bell.” Alexander finally answered shaky, quieter than Eliza ever heard. She desperately wanted to call him out on his bullshit. But, he sounded so weak,  _ so helpless, _ she didn’t have the heart to do it.  

 

“Oh well, that's okay.” Alex gave her a too quick “see you later” and hung up the phone. She pocketed it, grabbed her keys and purse calling out to her employee to watch over the register. She climbed in the front seat, starting the car, trying to pay attention to the road. But her mind was occupied with falling roses and weak voices.

  
  


 

\--- 

  
  


 

The elevator climbed upwards and some people filtered in out on his way, none of them being anyone he knew, thank god. He didn’t he could deal with anyone after Jefferson. Finally, the elevator came to a stop and made his way to the familiar double doors. 

 

He knocked, “Sir?” 

 

“Come in.” His boss looked surprised at the sight of him, “What do you need, Son?” 

 

“U-um, well..”Alex stuttered, the last thing he wanted was for Washington to be upset with him, “Sir, do you mind -if- mean it's okay if not- b-but- can I leave early today, Sir?” Washington’s eyebrows were arched up high. Then he laughed, so sudden and loud, Alexander flinched, his legs moved in preparation to take a step back. 

 

“Yes! Of course, Alexander! God, I’m so glad you're asking me, I’ve never thought I’d see the day Alexander Hamilton asked for early leave.”

 

“I-I’m sorry, sir, it just Philip and Eliza we have a-”

 

“ _ It’s okay _ , go, Alexander.” He smiled. “I’m happy you’re taking a break for once.” 

 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

 

Alexander took the elevator down from Washington’s office being careful he didn't run into anyone while heading back. He walked a little faster when he saw a head of curly hair, one pulled back and one let loose.  _ Were they talking to each other? _ And, finally arrived at his office closing the door. He closed his laptop packing his belongings away and took a few files so he could work over the weekend. 

 

He found himself in front a familiar desk drawer. Alexander swore he could feel sweat dripping down his forehead and a uncomfortable pressure in his ears. His throat felt clogged, burning almost. He tried to rationalize with himself-  _ he wouldn’t need it, it just for emergencies, he didn’t-  _ But still, still he dropped down to his knees with nervous hands. Pulling, the desk drawer open, snatching a small white bottle for  _ just in case _ . And, if he found himself pushing a pill into his mouth, well, nobody needed to know. 

 

 

\---

 

 

Alexander walked up to the door of the restaurant. It was nice, quaint little place, small and unassuming. He walked inside and then was almost toppled over with shear force that hit him. 

 

“Dad! Dad! Dad!” His son wrapped his tiny arms around him squeezing him and Alexander bit his lip choking back any sounds that threatened to escape from his lips, because goddamn for ten year old his son had a strong grip. Alex reciprocated the hug and returned Philip’s greeting with the same enthusiasm just not intensity. 

 

“Philip!” He laughed quietly and smiled at his son. 

 

“Dad! Dad! Guess what I did today?!” His son practically overflowing with energy, bouncing on his toes. 

 

“Why don’t you tell me when we sit down.” Alex replied smiling down at Philip, his beautiful, wonderful son. Pip nodded determinedly and gave him a little mock salute, then stomped over to the booth where his mother was sitting. Alexander gave Eliza a wave and followed his son sliding in the booth with relative easy, still ignoring the constant shocks of pain. 

 

“How are you, Alexander?” Eliza said smiling bright at him. 

 

“Fine.. fine.” He lied easily straight through his teeth. “How is business going?” Alexander tried, anything to get the attention away from him. And he knew well Eliza loved to talk about her flowers. 

 

“Oh, it’s great. We just got this new shipments of these beautiful roses. Oh! And, these gorgeous carnations, those are your favorite right? They’re beautiful, Alex, really. I’d really wish you’d come visit sometime...” 

 

“Eliza, you know I-” Alexander began like always. It was the same answer everytime his friends asked him to do something they  _ knew _ he couldn’t. He didn’t get why they wouldn’t just leave him alone. 

 

Then Philip perked up who was previously distracted by the game on his phone, “Yea, Dad! You should come visit Mom’s shop. The flowers are super cool, dad, and so, so pretty! Promise you’ll come one day...” Alexander watched as his son gave him the saddest puppy eyes and he just didn’t have the heart to say no. 

 

“-Of course, pip, one day, when I have time.” Philip threw his hands up in a celebratory for his victory, Alexander sighed, but couldn't help but smile at his son, and Eliza watched them with a smile on her face and a silent sad gleam in her eyes. 

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“So, how is Charles?” Eliza asked carefully as they stood outside the restaurant waiting for Philip who was taking his awfully sweet time in the bathroom. 

 

“...Good. He’s good.” Alexander answered trying not to let anything slip, the Schuyler sister was watching him like a hawk. Her piercing eyes waiting, waiting, for an opening. 

 

“And you’re…” She paused, “happy.. with him?” 

 

Alexander bristled and hissed quietly, under his breath but just loud enough for her to hear, “ _ Yes.  _ Eliza, I’m happy.” Eliza sighed and turned away to look at the sky. Not bothering to press for more information, which Alexander found odd, she wouldn’t usually give up so soon, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

“Do you remember how I asked you about Maria?” Eliza changed the subject but still didn’t look back to Alexander, who was entirely grateful. So instead they both admired the sky. It was a beautiful array of soft pinks, oranges, and purples dusted lightly on the late afternoon winter sky, like paints of canvas. In a morbid sense, it reminded him of his bruises, the soft purples, pinks and yellows, instead of the sky, his body was canvas and Charles the painter. 

 

Eliza coughed, still awaiting an answer and Alexander once again lied straight through his teeth. “I-I honestly don’t know her, ‘Liza-” He silently cursed himself for the stutter, but it didn’t matter she probably saw right through him. She always did. 

 

“-Hush, Alex.” She shushed him and pursed her lips, thinking, before speaking again,“Maria comes to my shop sometimes. She's really sweet, but quiet, doesn’t talk much. She always stays for around half-an-hour just browsing, looking and admiring the flowers. She loves them, I can tell, I do to after all. Still day after day, after all that looking, she still comes to the register and ask for the same red roses.” Eliza paused and turned slightly facing Alexander, her eyes seeing right through him, “But, you see, today when I answered your call and mention your name she freaked out. Dropped her precious roses and started at me with such... a-a terrified expression- So you can see why I’m just a  _ little _ curious.” Eliza smiled at him all sweet and fake. It was like the shitty alternative sweeteners that some people like to use in their coffee or tea,  _ disgusting _ . Alexander sighed and leaned his head back against the wall of the cafe. 

 

“Look, I-I-...Maria and I had bad history, that's all.” He didn’t lie but it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. 

 

“Why did you lie, then?” 

 

“Like I said, bad history, really bad, It w-wasn’t- It wasn’t something I wanted to remember. It happened a long time ago, okay? J-just leave it.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Eliza put a gentle hand on his shoulder and he did his best to not flinch. “You know you can tell me anything, right… We might not be married anymore, but you’re still family, Alexander.” Her hand patted his shoulder before sliding off. “I’m going to check on Philip.”  

 

Alex sighed and rested his head back on the wall.  _ You’re still family _ . What did it matter if he told her the truth or not? What could she do? He wasn’t going to leave Charles. Charles loved him, and he loved Charles. No matter what the other man did to him, no matter how much he hurt him, slapped him, kicked him, beat him, fucked him. It didn’t matter because Alexander couldn’t  _ live _ without him. Couldn’t do anything without him. Wouldn’t be anything. 

 

Without Charles he was  _ nothing _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there any mistakes!!! 
> 
> But what did you guys think??? Tell me in comments I LOVE hearing them. During this month I was so backed up if writer's block and just didn't want to write at ALL so i put of you your guys comments on post it notes and slapped them onto my computer so every time, I didn't feel like my writing was good enough I read them and they really helped me so guys thanks, honestly. I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible! 
> 
> If you didn't know I did post some sneak peaks of this chapter on my on my: [tumblr](https://dowhateveryouwantimsuperdead.tumblr.com/) so follow me there for updates on ILWAG and peaks of the upcoming chapter and don't be afraid to talk to me i'm super chill i swear!


	8. Trying Valiantly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was fine.
> 
> A storm was brewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy yo look at this right on time, pretty good, Am I right??? 
> 
> I hope you guys like it, thank you for all the comments and kudos I really appreciate them, seriously. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> TW in tags!

Alexander waved goodbye to Eliza as he and Philip walked down to his car. “Dad! Daad!” Philip tugged on the sleeve of his cream colored sweater. 

 

“Yea, Pip?” Alex smiled down at him.

 

“What are we gonna do this weekend?” His son asked practically jumping up and down, and Alex was extremely regretting letting him have dessert. He sighed and tried to buckle up his son, who was still shaking from all the sugar.

 

“Philip, come on, sit still.” Pip huffed but finally let up and Alexander prayed to whatever deity was out there, that compelled his son to listen. “Thank you, Pip.” Alex climbed into the front seat pulling out of the driveway and turning onto the street to head home. 

 

“Soooo Dad! What. Are. We. Doing?” 

 

“Right now we're going to go home and get you a room set up. Then we can do whatever you’d like at home. After that, I have to go out, but Carrie going to come watch you for a bit.” 

 

“Okay! Then what about tomorrow?” Jesus his kid was nonstop. 

 

“We can do whatever you want, Philip.” 

 

“Whatever?” 

 

“Whatever.” 

 

 

\---

 

 

Alexander looked down at his watch checking the time, 5:30, that was good he had a few hours before he had to leave. He stepped out of the car opening the trunk, gathering Philip’s backup. 

 

“Woah,” Pip exclaimed as he stepped out of the car eyes bulging at the mansion. 

 

“You say that every time, Pip.”

 

“I know, but-but, It just so cool and hu- hu-mongous!” 

 

“Well, that's a pretty humongous word, right there,” Alex said as he grabbed his son's hand and walked them to the doorway, fumbling in his pockets to find the right key. 

 

“I learned it at school!” 

 

“That’s good.” 

 

“Dad?” The change of tone in his son’s voice caught him off-guard. 

 

“You okay, Philip?” He turned around to face his son before turning back to walk inside the turning the lights on. 

 

“I’m fine. I was just wondering if Mr.Charles is here?” Alexander stiffened and he shook his head. 

 

“No..no. He went away on business trip, he’ll be gone for the weekend.” 

 

“Oh. I See. I was just wondering. I like Mr.Charles, he’s nice to me but..” Pip paused earning a confused glance from Alex, Philip never _ paused _ . 

 

“What is it, Philip?” 

 

“..Nothing nevermind.”

 

“Okay,” Alexander said, eyeing his son warily. 

 

“Come on, let’s go find you a room.” That brought the energy back into Philip as if he recharged with the damn energizer bunny. 

 

“Can I pick?” 

 

Alexander smiled, “Any room you want.” 

 

“Come on dad, you're so slow!” His kid ran down the hallway finding his way to the staircase and began jogging up it, making it to the stop in almost record time. “Come on!” He called from above, the sound echoing. 

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He murmured as he shuffled his way upstairs following the hyperactive 10-year-old down the hall. 

 

They stopped at the first room where Philip ran in and jumped on the bed. 

 

“Philip remember no jumping.” Pip giggled as the sprawled across the bed, then pouted and jumped off. 

 

“The bed’s too hard!” Philip exclaimed unhappily. 

 

“Alright then, let's go to the next room.” 

 

“Too big.” 

 

“Too soft.” 

 

“Too small.” 

 

Alexander stood at the door watching his son flop on yet another bed. “Well?” he asked tiredly. 

 

“Hmm.” Philip pondered carefully sitting up, and Alex watched as he made a face. He laid back down and sighed happily into the sheets.

 

“This one's just right!” 

 

“Thank god, Goldilocks.” 

 

Philip scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. 

 

 

\--- 

 

 

Alexander and Philip had eventually migrated back downstairs and found themselves on the couch, Philip trying to pick a movie to watch.  

 

“What about “Beauty and The Beast- or-or - we can watch Moana, or how about-” Philip went on and on listing every viable option there was. 

 

“Whatever you want to watch, I’ll watch.” 

 

“But you have to pick something!” 

 

“Don’t worry, Pip, I’m fine with anything.” Philip gave him an incredulously look, making him seem almost too knowing for his age.  “Really.” 

 

“Fine. Then let's watch, “Beauty and The Beast.”

 

“Fine with me.” 

 

They had ended up watching a few more movies. And halfway through their last one, Philip had began to drift off slowly. Alexander would have let him fall asleep on the couch then carry him upstairs. But, there was just no way he could manage with the state his back was in. Alex stood up and shook his son lightly, bleary eyes blinking open slowly, “Come on, Philip, Time for bed, okay?” 

 

“Whaaat,” Philip groaned tiredly his head swaying from side to side, “It's only 8:30!” 

 

“I know, I know, but you can barely keep your eyes open.” Stubborn as a bull Philip tried to open his eyes, but they fluttered shut and Philip slumped against the couch. 

 

“C-Can you carry me, Dad?” Alexander flinched and looked down. 

 

“No, I’m sorry Pip my back is killing me.” 

 

“Why? Did you hurt it?” Philip asked then muttered quietly, “Did Mr-nevermind-” 

 

Alexander sighed, too tired to pay attention to his son’s tried mumbles,“Don’t worry about it, Philip.”

  
  
Philip stayed most silent after that, with a few more occasional indecipherable mumbles. Alexander helped him carefully up the stairs, watching his every move. 

 

As he tucked his son into bed, Pip grabbed his arm and his head turned to face him, his brown eyes hazed over as if he was stuck in limbo; somewhere between the land of the living and dreaming. 

 

“I-I-I’ll protect you, Dad.” Alexander, confused and curious, leaned in so he could better hear.

 

“Protect me from what, Pip?” 

 

“-from Mr.Charles, Dad. Don't worry, I promise.” His son yawned and shifted away. Alexander blinked twice then stood up and walked from the room, closing the door quietly. He took heavy breaths as he walked downstairs, his eyes wandering, searching. Alexander picked up his bag pulling out the familiar white bottle, opening it calmly; his hands still, breathing unwavering. Everything would be fine. Everything  _ was _ fine. 

 

_ I’ll protect you.  _

 

He chugged down a glass of water. He needs to go call Philip’s babysitter and leave for Lafayette’s. 

 

_ Everything was fine.  _

  
  


Alexander closed the door to the house softly after saying goodbye to Carrie. He gripped his coat, curling it around his body, to protect himself from freezing wind. He climbed in his car turning the heat up all the way, setting in it in drive. From some reason, Lafayette had asked to meet up at his house, which Alexander was fine with, he just didn’t understand why. Alex looked up, the sky was foggy, clouds covering every inch and the stars barely seen. They were trying valiantly to shine through the clouds but ultimately failed, as all things eventually do. Alexander heard a low, grumbling, rumbling roar emerge from the dark sky. 

  
A storm was brewing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes!!! ( actually didn't even read this there probably a lot ahh sorry)
> 
> Very short chapter I'm so so sorry, but next one should be longer and I promise you chapter 9 is going to have the meeting it gets c r a z y!!


	9. Devastatingly Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lee hurts you.” 
> 
> Lafayette said and the room went silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took a while, my birthday was this week and i had a party to plan and ugh so much stress but here it is now! 
> 
> So i hope you guys like, and every comment and kudos are appreciated! 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> TW in tags!

“No.” Alexander looked around the room, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe they would do this. _They lied to him._

 

“Alexander please-” Lafayette breaks the silence first.

 

“No!” he hissed and made a sharp turn around making a defiant stride for the door. And as if he was waiting for it, Hercules, walks in, standing like the wall of berlin, blocking him from his sweet escape.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Alex pleaded, desperate. “Get out of my way, Hercules.” Herc shook his head almost solemnly, as if it was he that was the one trapped here.

 

“No can do, buddy.”

 

“I know- I know what this is.” He said quietly, whispering. It didn’t matter it was dead silent. “And, I’m not going to-”

 

“We’re not asking you to do that.” John spoke up inching closer to Alexander, his steps were cautious, calculated, as if Alex was a wild animal about to bolt.

 

“We’re just asking you to listen.” Eliza said softly, following in John’s footsteps.

 

Hercules stepped inside and slowly closed the door, and Alexander watched from an almost external viewpoint, an out-of-body experience, as his escape was ripped away from him. He slumped, the anger disappearing from his tired limbs.

 

“Okay.”

 

His friends all took a collective sigh. And, brought him to the couch to sit down. He had ended up sitting across from them on the lone chair, multiplies eyes on him, it separated him from them. He looked away. He couldn’t handle constant scrutiny, every eye judging, always judging and he couldn’t tell what they could see. Then, Lafayette came into the living room with glasses of expensive champagne and placed them on the table,  “You said you knew what this was about.”

  
Alexander was quiet for a moment, “Of course I do.” It was the same thing every time. Somehow, somewhere his friends would always manage to delve into the topic of him and Charles. And, constantly they’d tell him about how wrong it was, how he needed to leave, to get out. But they didn’t understand, they didn’t understand how much Charles helped him, how much Charles loved him, that everything Charles did was for him. But, Alexander didn’t blame them for it, they had good intentions, after all.

 

“Look, Alex,” It was Eliza this time, “With the way things are-” She paused, “-with the way things are going they..they don't look good. I need you to understand, you’re our friend, family, Alexander . We care about you and we love you! Laf, Herc, John, Me, Angelica, and Peggy, we all care so, so, so much. And, all we want is for you to be happy and _safe._ ”

 

“I am.” He protested quietly. Why couldn’t get it? He was fine.  And, he was happy with Charles.

 

She shook her head, “No I, We, don't think your fine, Alexander. You said you knew what this was about right? Then you know we’re talking about you and _him_ , and your-” She paused for a second then said slowly, “-relationship.”

 

Alexander looked away from her sullen gaze. Sure, what he and Charles have isn't conventional, but it wasn't bad.

 

Right?

 

Then he heard Lafayette start to speak.

 

“We saw you, Alex. Limping.”

 

Oh, shit.

 

“And the way you were holding yourself. Your hand wrapped around your stomach. I'm not stupid, Alexander. I know what that means.” Hercules said mercilessly.

 

Alexander stayed quiet head down.

 

“I’m fine, I just slipped down the stairs.”

 

Liar.

 

“You said that last time.” John remarked.

 

“What- what do you want me to say?”

 

“Tell us the truth, Alex.” Peggy said calmingly.

 

“What do you mean, the truth?” Alex questioned, trying his best to play dumb.

 

“Lee hurts you.”

 

Lafayette said and the room went silent, all waiting for him, all eyes on him. They knew. _They knew_ . So why didn’t they understand? Everything, all the pain he endured, he deserved. H _e deserved it!_ Couldn't they see what a mess he was, what a whore he was, nothing more than a loudmouth fuck up, why didn’t they see that? Why didn’t they see that Charles fixed that. Molded him from the ground up, into something completely better, into who he was now.

 

So he widened his eyes in shock and he looked at them, ludicrous. “What? No, of course not-”

 

“Bullshit!” Alexander jumped as Angelica stood up, with a force to rival a hurricane. Her fist clenched in tight angry balls, ignoring the warning from John. Her voice picking up a few notches, getting loud, angry, just _like Charles_ . “Y-you- think we don't notice or something?! We’re not _stupid_ , Alexander. Do you think we don’t see you limping everyday? Or see the way you jump at- Every. Little. Sound.” Alexander flinched and looking down at his pants his hands buried in the ripples of it, biting his lip, taking Angelica’s assault. “Or how you always have new injuries? The fact you never go out anymore? How about every time your phone rings--you almost have an anxiety attack! Or how you beckon at Lee’s every call. How you let him take advantage of you in every single way possible! Whether, it's physically, mentally, or fuck even sexually. I just bet you let him do anything, anything- _everything-”_

 

“ _Angelica!”_ John shouted at least that's who it sounded like.

 

Everything was fuzzy, cloudy, like the stars outside, except he didn’t try fight it. He let the hazy numbness sweep him off his feet almost like Charles did when they first met.

 

Charles.

 

Rain drizzled down his cheeks. Where was he again? Cold ran through his veins, he was _freezing_. Was he outside? Did Charles kick him out again?

 

Shouting.

 

He heard shouting.

 

Was Charles yelling at him again?

 

Tears poured down his eyes like a hurricane. He couldn’t do anything right. He said he’d be good, he tried so hard, yet Charles was still mad. Suddenly, he being to hear the yelling loud and clear.

 

 _“Worthless, meaningless, fucking replaceable, pointless piece of shit!”_ Strong hands gripped his shoulders, _“Fucking replaceable, do you understand? That’s what you are!”_

 

The rain thundered down even harder.

  
  


\---

  
  


“--I just bet you let him do anything, anything- _everything-”_ She was furious, her anger red hot and boiling through her veins. Angelica was a volcano and she finally erupting.  

 

“ _Angelica!”_ John shouted and she stopped, all her anger still roaming, searching and pounding like the blood in her veins.

 

“What, Laurens?!”

 

“Tone it down.”

 

“Someone!” She yelled. Spinning around making sure everyone was looking at her, that everyone's attention was on _her_ , “Has tell it to him straight! He’s not going to get it any other way, don't you understand! We’ve trying it the nice way far too long!”

 

“You didn’t have to yell like that. You know he cannot handle it!” Lafayette chimed in.

 

“Maybe Angelica's right...” Angelica through an arm around her sister smirking towards their crowd.

 

“See, she gets it!”

 

John scoffed at her, “And you think just bringing up all those things was a good idea!?” he paused glaring at her, and that did nothing but fan the flame, she was boiling. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

 

“John!” Hercules began, “Maybe she not wrong.”

 

“You too? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

 

“Maybe, we’ve been going too soft on him. Maybe- just maybe- Angelica’s right.” Angelica smirked, watching the horror on John’s face as he realized Hercules had just took her side.

 

“You’re all insane! You want to start pushing him just like Lee does? You want to yell at him? Scare him into leaving that dickbag, then you're no better than Charles fucking Lee himself!” John said Lafayette at his side defending him. The two groups argued back and forth-

 

“-All our hard work would be, _worthless_ , merde!”

 

“ _-meaningless_? Everything we did- are doing is for-”

 

“-he’s our friend, no matter how he acts, he’s not goddamn _replaceable_!-”

 

“-that would be fucking _pointless-_ ”

 

The screaming intensifying with each remark from the other side countering the one before it.

 

“GUYS SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Peggy screamed from the other side of the living next to Alexander, holding him tight against her chest. She glared at them and heaved Alexander up whispering to him quietly, heading into the bathroom.

 

The silence was suffocating.

  


\----

  


“Alex?” Peggy practically dragging his body-- he didn’t weigh much it worried her --helped him settle on the toilet seat. Peggy looked at him and their eyes met, but there was no look of recognition on his face. He couldn’t see her. Alex wasn’t there. She could tell. His eyes were blank, hazy, a mist covered over the once bright brown. He curled up making himself as small as possible, his knees buried into his chest, and his head buried into his knees. He had done it so quickly, so effortlessly, that she realized it was routine, something he put into practice so often, that it was ingrained in his very subconsciousness. Peggy noticed something else, it was the doctor-in-training in her. Something was wrong with Alex’s back. He was careful of it. It was the little things that gave it away, the way he was sitting, his back almost stiff and straight like a board, or like how he didn’t move an inch, carefully balanced on the seat. Something was wrong, but what? She wasn’t cruel enough to ask him about it now, not while he was in such a precarious state. So Peggy did the only thing she could really do, reassure him. “Don't worry about them. They’ll calm down, eventually. There just worried about you Alex. They didn’t mean to hurt you, that I can promise you for sure.”  

 

Nothing.

 

Alexander didn’t move an inch, but it wasn’t like she expected him too. He was still shaking, his entire body trembling with what she had assumed to be crying. Tired of standing, Peggy sat down across from Alex, her back sliding down the wall until she the reached floor. And she kept talking, “Angelica didn’t mean that, you know? Sometimes when she’s really passionate about something and she gets a little crazy. She means well, I swear. Like, you might have heard this before-” Nobody really knew this story, Peggy promised Angelica she wouldn’t tell anyone, not even ‘Liza. It was during univeristy, they had gotten into the same class, American history. “-And we had to give a speech about this controversial topic, individually. Let me tell you, Ange was so excited, she walked up to the podium, and by god, her speech was amazing, passionate, determined, she really is something, but-” If Peggy remembers correctly, Angelica then stepped down from the podium and shook hands with the teacher, “-then Alex, get this she turned and walked into a wall. Everyone lost it!”

 

Alexander didn’t say anything but his crying stopped, and it seemed as if he was listening now. Peggy huffed and smiled a little, “I felt so bad for her, she got up dusted her pants and strutted back to her seat, didn’t say a word for the rest of class. When we were walking back home she almost cornered me, like freakin’ shark, and threatened me not to tell. I laughed at her, but I didn’t say a word to anyone, well, anyone but you.” She fell silent after that and leaned her back of white pristine walls, she assumed they had stopped yelling by now, but she didn’t want to leave Alex just yet. She tried to strain her ears, listening for any noise, but it was no use the walls were sound-proof.

 

“Don’t stop.” Peggy whipped her head back down as she heard Alex speak, albeit it was more like whispering.

 

“Don't what?”

 

“Talking. Don’t stop.” He murmured his mouth slightly muffled by his pants.

 

“Okay- okay I can do that. What do you want me to talk about?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Peggy started telling him about her day, because it was the only thing she could really think of. It was the same everyday: wake up, get dressed, eat, go to school, do homework, eat, sleep, and repeat. But today was different. “I got job today at this cafe down, somewhere around where you work I think it’s called, Cafe Historia or something. It’s really nice there, you’d like it. It's got a historic feeling to it. Anyway i met these two girls there, around my age they also go to Columbia! Martha S-skelton, what a name huh! And, Sally Hemmings. They’re both really nice, they’re teaching how to waiter n’stuff."

 

She heard quiet sniffles from the toilet seat now. Peggy looked up at Alexander and she found blearily brown eyes looking back.

 

Her tone softened, “How are you?”

 

“...okay…” he answered head resting on his knees.

 

Peggey let out a huge sigh, “I'm glad.”

 

“Do you want to see-”

 

“John.” he whispered.

 

“Okay,” she got up and stretched her joints popping for sitting for so long for sitting. I’ll get him. Wait here.” Alexander gave her a subtle nod, his head still resting on his knees.

 

She opened the bathroom door and walked out, making sure to close it. She walked up to living room where everyone was sitting looking as if they had just killed someone, and were finally feeling the guilt.

 

“Guys.” Peggy called.

 

They all looked at her silent. She sighed, ran a single hand through her hair that was matted from resting her head on the wall then put her hands on her hips. “He’s okay, now.” A collective sigh ran through the group. “And, he wants to see John.”

 

“Me?” John asked as if there were another John around.

 

“Yes you. Come on.”

 

John stood up and walked to the door. However before he could make it Peggy grabbed him tightly by the shoulder and whispered quietly.

 

“There something wrong with his back.. see if you can get him to show you _without_ making him hyperventilate. Got it.”

 

“Yea.. got it.” He shrugged away and went inside the bathroom.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Hey.” John said as he closed the bathroom door shut seeing Alexander on the toilet seat.

 

“..Hey...” Alex said softly.

 

John sat down in front of Alex on the floor. “I’m sorry. Hell, We’re all really sorry Alex.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

John shook his head, “No, no it really isn’t. This was for you because we wanted to help you and all we ended up hurting you even more.”

 

“B-but I deserved it so it’s okay.” Alexander said and John’s heart sank. Lee fucked up Alexander so badly, that he couldn’t even tell good from bad, right from wrong.

 

“Who told you that? Alexander you didn’t deserve any of that.”

 

“B-but- but-”

 

“No. No “buts.” John sighed and changed the subject. He could see Alexander  getting agitated, “How is Philip, I heard from Eliza you two are spending the weekend together.” If there was one thing in the world that made Alexander happy it was Philip. True to form, Alexander  smiled and began to explain to John about how great Philip, what a smart kid he was, how he couldn’t choose what room he wanted this afternoon, how he helped Alexander cook dinner. And John smiled and laughed along with him, happy to see Alex smiling.

 

“I have to get back to him, you know. I have Carrie watching him I-I know she wants to go home too.” Alex said.

 

“Yea,” John resigned. Then quickly remembered about Peggy said. How the hell was he suppose to approach this. Well, there was no time to beat around the bush.

 

“Alex, I’m gonna ask you something and you gotta trust me on this okay.”

 

“W-what is it?”

 

“Can you take off your shirt for me?”

 

“W-w-what?!” Alex said quickly curling in on himself more, protecting something John realized.

 

“Look, Peggy seemed really worried about your back, so if you just show me, then I can tell her everything’s fine.”

 

Alexander look horrified and John knew _everything wasn’t fine_.

 

“I-I can’t.”

 

“Alexander, please.”

 

“It’s fine, nothing's wrong!”

 

“Then show me.”

 

 _“I can’t!”_ Alex screamed and John, who somewhere along the line stood up, took a step back.

 

“...Why?”

 

Alexander curled his head to his knees shaking his, “I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.”

 

John moved slowly and placed his hands on Alex’s shoulders. His head snapped up and fat tears rolled down his cheeks, “I can’t, John.”

 

“What happened? Did you trip down the stairs?”

 

Alexander nodded his head quickly accepting the lie both knew wasn’t true, “It's ugly you don’t want to see it.”

 

“I think you forget Alexander , I work as a part-time nurse. I’ve seen some pretty bad stuff.”

 

“He’ll be so mad.” Alexander whispered so quietly, John realized he was whispering to himself. He wasn’t suppose to hear that, but he knew exactly what it meant. If Lee found out Alexander showed anybody-

 

“He’d kill me.” Alex whispered again and John suspected Alexander was reading his mind. Alexander looked back up at John and nodded.

 

“Thank you, Alex.”

 

He began to pull of his shirt carefully and John’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open and parchness began to take over it, as if all moisture had dripped away from the air. He gulped, his throat scratchy and pulsating ringing in his ears. He started at Alexander in a horrific terror and felt warm tears build up in the corner of his eyes. A cold wind swept over him, it was freezing. He looked away, appalled.

 

No way.

 

No way.

 

How did it ever get this bad?

 

Alexander body was mangled.

 

There was not one inch of skin that wasn’t covered in black and blue. The buries were big and permeated his body, they almost filled the small bathroom and all he could see was black and blue. John couldn’t help but stare, in almost bystander fashion. It was as if he was witnessing a mind-boggling, never-thought-this-could-happen-in-real-life event, and all he could do was stare in a horrified fascination. He felt sick.

 

“Fucking hell, Alexander.”

 

“Why are you crying, John.” He wrapped his arms lightly around Alex’s too small waist-- he could almost see his ribs-- careful of his bruises and hugged him tight. John wept into his crevice between his shoulder and neck.

 

“I’m so sorry, Alex.” Small skinny arms wrapped around his upper torso.

 

Alexander paused.

  
“It’s all my fault, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorrry for any mistakes will go throught it later!) 
> 
> SO??!! What did you guys think! I must hear tell me down in the comments! And the next chapter will be out soooon!
> 
> hit me up: on my [tumblr](https://dowhateveryouwantimsuperdead.tumblr.com/)


	10. The Difference Between Surviving and Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could Alexander live with all those injuries? How could he live knowing who put them there? How could he live loving the person who put them there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so so sorry this took forever but uhh it's here now so go read!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> TW in tags!

John left the bathroom with his head down. He felt a gaping hole in his chest, guilt filling and turning making his stomach hurt and his chest ache.

 

How could he let this happen?

 

He walked towards the living room, where they all sat in an oppressive silence that covered them like a giant wool blanket, heavy and thick. Even the air held a certain substance to it, that made him uncomfortable. He sighed slightly, they only had themselves to blame. He met Peggy’s eyes and subtly nodded his head.

 

“Laf,” John called slightly. The silence was so overwhelming that he was almost afraid to speak any louder.

 

“What is it, John?” He asked and John winced at how his voice level clashed with the atmosphere.

 

“I need some first aid-- whatever you have.” He heard a gasp somewhere in the background.

 

“Why in the world--”

 

“I'll explain later when we get Alex home.”

 

Lafayette pursed his lips, opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead he stayed silent. He wiped his hand on his pants before standing up from the chair.

 

“I'll get you what I have…”

 

Peggy walked carefully over to him. She grabbed his shoulder pulling him away from the crowd. They stood in a nearby hallway where they couldn't see them and Alex wouldn't hear them-- he knew the walls were supposed to be sound-proof but he wasn't taking any chances.

 

“How bad was it?” She asked softly.

 

“Fucking terrible, I can't believe--” John shook his head speechless. He didn’t understand, not one bit, of how Alexander could live with all those injuries, could live knowing who put them there, could live loving the person who put them there. He didn’t understand and it frustrated him, to the point where he wanted to pull his hair and _scream_.

 

Because to him, that didn’t sound like living.

 

That didn’t sound like a _good_ life.

 

To him, that sounded like _surviving_. And, there was a big difference between surviving and living. And John begins to wonder if maybe Alex was always in survival mode, if he ever took a break to just live, to exist.

 

He doesn’t think so.

 

And maybe that's the problem.

 

John felt two hands grip his shoulder, he snapped to meet Peggy’s eyes, which held certain determination in them that he couldn’t place. He was knocked away from his thoughts as Peggy shook him and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll get him out of this. We’ll get him away from _him_ . It might not happen now, it might not happen as soon as we want and Alex still might get hurt, but we’re gonna try our hardest. ” She slumped, but it wasn’t in defeat. It was somewhere in between victory and defeat, it was in preparation for either. “So don’t worry, let's get in there and fix him up… and _that_ is our start. We first undo the damage.”

 

John sighed as Peggy’s hands slid off. “Thank you.” She nodded giving him a small smile.  They walked towards the living room and Laf was there with a med kit and box of miscellaneous medicines and bandages. He gathered the supplies in his arms, turning to walk away.

 

“You’re really not gonna say anything?” The Frenchman whispered while he was still close.

 

John turned around to at him, “I will. I swear. Just let me do this.” Lafayette nodded and went back to sit in the chair, downing the glass of champagne in one go. He turned and walked towards the bathroom door, Peggy trailing behind him.

 

“You know how to clean bruises?”

 

“Of course, I’m not dumb.”

 

“You know how to check for fractures?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Good.”

 

Once they reached the door of the bathroom John stopped her. “Let me make sure he’s okay with letting you come in. The last thing we need is--”

 

“--another panic attack, I know, go ahead.”

 

John twisted the door handle and pushed in, finding Alex on the carpet, his legs crossed and head resting on the wall behind him. He turned his head when he heard the door open, his eyes blinking open softly and John felt himself melt a little.

 

“What's all that?” he muttered quietly, his voice sounding a little bit dry.

 

“Look I’m just a little bit worried, and I wanted to check your back, can I?” He added quickly, “It's your call.”

 

“I...Charles…” Alexander trailed off, deep in thought, before he finally replied, “Okay.”

 

John blinked a little surprised, that he said yes so easy. But he wasn’t about to take it for granted. He asks if Peggy can help and also surprisingly Alex says yes. John tapped on the door letting her know it was alright to come in.

 

Between the two of them, it didn't take too long. They had Alexander sit back up on the toilet while they poked and prodded at his back. John had her clean up all those that looked open to oxygen in any way while he checks for any possible fractures. It must have hurt, John _knows_ it must have hurt. But, Alex did not make one sound, and he didn’t know whether to grateful or concerned, maybe he was a little bit of both.

 

They had wrapped his back in white bandages so the medicine wouldn’t rub on his shirt. John spotted one large bruise near Alexander's ribs, that looked as if a handprint had been _etched_ into his skin. He didn’t ask because once Alex noticed he was looking at it, started to hyperventilate. They calmed him down quick before it turned into a full-blown panic attack. He shoved some painkillers and in Alex’s mouth and gave him a glass of water to help him swallow them down, God knows he needed them.

They walked out of the bathroom and Eliza got up from the couch and when to the door, waving a good to the crowd, they gave back solemn goodbyes as well.

 

“Eliza gonna drive you home, okay.”

 

“I don’t need--” Alex began to protest, but then John gave him a look and he nodded and went to go meet Eliza by the door, where she handed him his jacket. It was a long night. Everyone knew that-- and it was about to get longer. Once John heard the slam of the door, he sat down and began speaking.

 

It was time they knew.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

Eliza pushed Alex into the passenger seat, his body limp and tired. He laid back and closed his eyes while Eliza hopped into driver's seat and turned the car on. They drove in silence the car and the heater making the only noise.

 

“I’m sorry--” She begins. Because she knows this is partly her fault and she needs to take responsibility but Alex cuts her off the wave of his hand. She closes her mouth and concentrates on the road.

 

“I get it.” Alex begins, “I know you guys just want to help but I’m fine.” She bit her lip and gripped the steering wheel tighter forcing herself to stay quiet. “If I ever need your help…” he pauses, “I’ll come to you, okay.”

 

“Your promise?” She asks quietly.

 

“I promise.” Alex replied back and sighed his breathing wavering and shaky and she quickly knew something was up.

 

“Did-- did you tell Philip anything?”

 

“What?” She asks confused, “Tell Philip what?”

 

“About me and Charles, did you tell him anything?”

 

She silent for a moment. “I--” and Alex cuts her off again and she gets this ache in her chest because what he’s doing is so reminiscent of Alex before Charles that she almost want to cry.

 

“He knows, Eliza, or he knows something, you're the only one who would…who could..” He trails off.  

 

She not going to try and lie to Alex because she can’t and if she been caught because her ten-year-old has loose lips then that one's on her. So she fixed her eyes on the road tightens her grip on the wheel and begins.

 

“I won’t lie to you, Alex. I don’t trust Charles Lee, not one single bit. I don’t trust him with you and certainly, don’t trust him with my son. But I can’t keep Pip away from you, he’s your kid too. So, yea, Alexander I told.” She pauses to take a ragged breath, “I told him everything. I told him what Lee does to you. I told him to be careful around him if he’s there. Yes, Alexander, I told him.”  

 

He doesn’t say anything for a while and Eliza drives.

 

They hit a red light. And, she stares at the sky. It’s all covered over in dark overhanging clouds. It was probably going to rain soon. There was a deep sound of rumbling thunder and she saw Alex shudder. A storm was coming. The light turned green and they started to move again.  

 

His voice is quiet and small, “Don’t involve him in this,” and then it starts to pick up, gaining momentum like the building tempest outside, “..nothing good will come out of it.”

 

Eliza looked over at him, then focused her eyes back on the road. She felt shivers climb up and down her back, it was an icy-cold feeling of trepidation. “Alex, what are you saying?” He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at her and she grits her teeth in frustration.

 

It began to rain.

 

When they got back to Alexander's home --Lee’s home--  it was downpouring, the thunder rumbling up in the sky and the rain beating down on the ground. Alexander wouldn’t let her go back home in this weather so they ran inside together. Carrie, Eliza’s employee who babysat Philip from time to time, was already fast asleep on the couch. Alex tried to turn the light on but it seemed as if the power was out.

 

She found herself looking around at whatever was still visible in the light of her phone’s flashlight. She found herself lost in vast white walls and expensive decor of the place. Her eyes widened when she noticed the small neatly placed camera in the corner in one of the walls, it was off since the power was out. And, an idea had begun to build in the back of her head.

 

It was nice, she couldn’t lie about that. But, it belonged to Lee, and that fact alone made her skin crawl. Alexander went upstairs and Eliza followed. He went to check on Pip who was still fast asleep, despite the loud thundering outside. He leads her to an empty bedroom upstairs and wished her a goodnight; she pretends to make herself comfortable in the silky sheets as listened to Alexander's footsteps grow farther and farther away until she heard a door shut.

 

She knew she shouldn't do this. She knew she _really should not do this_. It was wrong and immoral, but it was for Alexander's sake, and she felt that was justified enough. Even though she knew if he found out he’d kill her-- this was an act of betrayal, of _backstabbing_ , and she was going to be _riddled_ with guilt afterward. But, if Alexander never felt the knife in his back-- then she guesses she can live with guilt in her stomach. Eliza grabbed her phone from her pocket and sat up opening a text messaging app.

 

Eliza: I’m inside Lee’s house. Alexander went to bed, I _have_ to look around.

 

She wasn’t going to get a chance like this ever again. It was the chance of a lifetime. Alexander hardly ever invited them inside. It mostly had to with the known fact that Lee did not like them and they did not like him.

 

But Lee wasn’t here.

 

And, Alexander was asleep.

 

Eliza cracked opened the bedroom door and stepped out trying to make as little noise as possible. She was grateful for the storm outside, the rumbling thunder and the beating rain should cover up any noise, and there was no electricity to power the cameras. It was the best chance she was going to get, everything had lined up like a well-made miracle, and it's was almost too good to be true.

 

She closed the door to the bedroom quietly, Eliza still had to be careful and opened the flashlight on her phone as she carefully descended down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm really sorry for not updating I have been in the worst writer block of my life. I wrote this chapter like 20 times, not joking, and this one is the one I’m most happy. I'm not gonna lie I almost cried when I finished this it just been so hard for me to write I would honest to god look at my work and I want to throw up. 
> 
> Anyway, it here now, so what did you think? What’s Eliza gonna find?? Is Alexander gonna find out? Or is Charles? 
> 
> Totally random question: Would anyone one be interested in a shitty ABO fanfic?


	11. Forever Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Crap!” She hissed as a few other bottles came crashing down. She tried to catch them all to the best of her ability but one fell on the floor, right as the lightning crashed down illuminating the house in an ethereal white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so slow. 
> 
> I swear this fic will pick back up once Charles gets back--then it's gonna be good. (not even gonna lie this like 'top notch' filler) 
> 
> If you guys can even get through this chapter without clicking out I applauded you. 
> 
> (This isn't edited be warned )

She reached the bottom and looked up at the window as the thunder crashed outside, the rain smacking the window, making them rumble. Eliza sighed trying to keep quiet as she quickly remembered Carrie was asleep on the couch. She made her way to the kitchen first, it was far away enough from the staircase and the couch that if she made any noise no one would hear it. Eliza opened the first drawer, nothing but kitchen utensils, so was the second one. The next drawer was suspicious locked so she left it alone.

 

She turned to the cabinet behind her and looked inside, it's seemed like a medicine cabinet; cold medicine, tons of ibuprofen and Advil, a few harmless looking prescription bottles and a small white bottle in the corner. She didn’t know why it caught her eye, maybe it was the way it was carefully placed, almost purposely hidden, tucked aside so no one would notice it. 

 

Carefully, she reached for it, her hand shaking a little, from the cold. 

 

Well, actually it wasn’t the cold  _ at all _ . 

 

But she  _ felt _ cold. Perhaps, it's was the guilt erupting inside her, the cold, icy guilt that she knew she would feel the full force of eventually. 

 

Despite it, she reached for the white bottle, carefully trying to not disrupt the other ones-

 

“Crap!” She hissed as a few other bottles came crashing down. She tried to catch them all to the best of her ability but one fell on the floor, right as the lightning crashed down illuminating the house in an ethereal white. 

 

Eliza thanked the heavens and picked up the bottle quickly not bothering to inspect it. She stuffed the other unneeded ones back in the cabinet and finally turned the small white bottle to inspect the label. 

 

_ ‘Xanax’ _

 

Eliza felt her heart thump against her chest, almost matching the rain’s beating pattern. She didn’t know how to feel,  _ what _ to feel at the fact that Alexander had  _ Xanax _ stashed away in the corner of a medicine cabinet. 

 

Where did he get them from? 

 

Was there more? 

 

_ Why _ ?

 

She had all these questions and the only person who could answer them; was the one she was currently betraying. 

 

Eliza sighed and took a picture of the bottle putting it back, hopefully, in the exact spot she got it from. She looked around, shuffling in the other drawer but finding nothing more. She turned out the kitchen and found herself going down a hallway. The first room was nothing but a bathroom, she rummaged around, finding nothing but towels and soap. 

 

She kept walking then found herself in front of what looked like an office door. Flashing her light over it seemed that the lock on was an electrical keypad, and Eliza couldn’t help but wonder if it--she reached and pushed the door, and it gently swung open. 

 

She gulped, looking through the house was one thing, but looking through what looked like to be Lee’s personal office, was going to be a big mistake. But, she was already snooping--and this was the  _ only _ chance she was going to get, might as well take full advantage of it. 

 

Eliza pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside. 

 

Carefully, she tiptoed into the office, flashing her light allowing her to see better. She scoffed, everything was furnished exotic looking wood, from the desk to the burgundy bookcases on either corner. As she walked further in she unconsciously let her hand slide across the desk, then pulled back immediately, almost disgusted touching something that Lee owned. 

 

Eliza looked down at the desk, it was neat and orderly, almost nothing on it but a few picture frames and post-it notes. The computer obviously wouldn’t work since the power was out, so there was no point to even try. That left her with the two desk drawers on either side. She began with the left and pulled it open, but it didn’t budge, shocker, it was locked. She prayed her luck was better with the next one. And, it seemed God listened, the right drawer opened and inside were files, each labeled by last name. 

 

She went through them finding nothing with ‘Hamilton’ on it and sighed about to close the drawer when she spotted ‘Jefferson’ she reached for it then stopped herself. She was here for Alexander, and whoever this was, it probably wasn’t even, Thomas. 

 

Eliza sighed, her brows furrowed what the hell, was this a bust? Sneaking around the house for nothing? She got up, her knees cracking with her, and flashed her light over the desk for on quick scan. There some loose post it's on the computer:    
  


_ ‘Ask King for a raise?’  _

 

What an asshole he already made a ton an of money, and that was just judging from his house.

 

_ ‘Call mother’  _

 

Huh. 

 

_ ‘Talk to Reynolds about Alex’ _

 

Eliza felt her brows rise, who the hell was Reynolds? 

 

She dropped down to the right drawer quickly pulling it open, flicking through the files until -there was two of them- Ms. Reynolds and Mr. Reynolds. She pulled out both files and set them neatly beside her and grabbed Mr. Reynolds first. The file had his personal information and a picture of a man probably in his late 20s, early 30s, his hair was a brownish-blonde, a few long strings of his hair cascading down his face. 

 

She turned to the next page skimming over the text, all she got was that he was Lee’s COO and what seemed to be a childhood friend. Perhaps all these files, were of people whom Lee employed? Still, nothing in the file pointed as to why he needed to know about Alex. She put the file back and turned to the next one. 

 

She opened it and her jaw fell. 

 

It was Maria. 

 

Maria... Reynolds. 

 

Eliza couldn’t look at it, it was an invasion of her privacy yet she felt a sense of commitment she was already this far she couldn’t stop now. Her eyes scanned the pages desperate and  _ hungry _ , searching for information. 

 

‘Twenty-seven’ 

 

‘Birthday, March 30’

 

‘Married’ 

 

Eliza flipped to the next page. 

 

But it was blank. She deflated and put the file back and closed the drawer, standing up. Eliza let her eyes roam on the desk once more, ready to go back, and then she sees it. 

 

A picture. 

 

Eliza picks up the picture flashing light on it. 

 

“What the hell?” She mutters quietly. 

 

It was Lee and Alexander together. Which wasn’t uncommon to see, but in this photo, they looked, almost, unless her eyes were deceiving her, genuinely  _ happy _ . 

 

Lee was wearing a light gray suit, pressed up against Alex’s side, a hand curled around his waist, his head turned to the side smiling. Alexander was standing straight looking towards the camera a bright smile plastered on his face, wearing an elegantly straight cut black  _ dress  _ a hand curled at the bottom lifting it up just slightly, mirth in his eyes. 

 

Eliza felt the wind knocked out of her, her breathing faltering from how shocked she felt, she hadn’t seen Alex wear a dress in  _ years,  _ she hadn’t seen Alex his happy in  _ years. _

 

They were younger, softer, there were no grays in Charles hair or deep set purple bags underneath Alexander’s eyes.    
  


_ But it didn’t make sense.  _

 

Eliza knew for a  _ fact,  _ that Alex did not know Lee back then. She was sure of it. 

 

So then how? 

 

Alexander told them they only met about two years ago, but judging from the picture it was much more than that. 

 

Then, was Alexander lying? 

 

And, if so, then why? 

 

She takes a picture of the photo and sets it back down, then recoils, picking it back up again shaking it slightly.

 

Something was off. 

 

It felt as if there was almost something inside the frame.

  
Carefully, she turns it over undoing the back of the frame and pried it off. There laid a small brown key that looked liked it could open a drawer or something. Eliza was quickly faced with a series of choices, 

 

Take the key, find the lock it opened, then put the key back. 

 

Take the key, and put a replacement.

 

Or 

 

Leave it alone.    
  


The rain was still crashing outside and the thunder and lightning striking the ground with loud cracks and booms, but nothing,  _ nothing _ could compare to the storm brewing inside her. One made out of guilt and passion and sense of obligation to help those in need, whatever the costs, may be. The outside strom became muffled and all she could hear was the beating of her heart against her chest. 

 

Quickly, Eliza swiped the key and picked a small key off her chain that she didn’t need, that matched in size and weight beside the frame to slip in. But before she put the replacement key in she noticed scribbles on the back of the photo. Gently, she picked up the photo and read the message on the back. 

  
_ “4/5/2009, Forever Yours - Lexi”  _

 

 

 

_ \--- _

 

 

 

Alexander quietly padded downstairs, reading the message Eliza had sent him a few hours ago. It read:  _ “Thanks for letting me stay the night! I took Carrie home. You and Pip have a good weekend, okay?”   _

 

Alexander put his phone down on the counter and walked into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and sighed, they have to go store. It wasn’t that he hated shopping or anything, it was actually kind of relaxing when he was  _ alone.  _ Since there was no way he could leave Philip by himself, he’d have to take him --calling Carrie did cross his mind, but he wanted to give her a break especially after last night-- and Philip had the tendency to wander. It wasn’t anything bad, he was just a  _ really _ curious kid, once he saw something that peaked his interests, he just  _ had _ to go look at it. For this reason, alone, Alexander never liked taking Pip with him to the grocery store, but there was no choice now. 

 

Alex huffed and turned to the coffee machine, he couldn’t function without it let alone take Pip to the store, and turned it on, grabbing a cup, sticking it under the spout. 

 

“Dad?” Alex turned around to see Philip, bleary-eyed, wiping his eyes with his hand. 

 

Alexander felt himself soften at the sight,  “Good morning, Pip.” 

 

“Good morning!” Philip paused for a second then turned red as his stomach grumbled, “I’m hungry!” 

 

Alex picked up his coffee and took a sip. The pleasant bitter undertone warming him up. Then he smiled gently as his son, “Alright we'll go get dressed and brush your teeth and we’ll go to the store.” 

 

“Yay!” His son cheered throwing his small arms in the air, then ran up the stairs to get ready. Alexander's eyes followed his son a burst of pure joy ran through his heart. 

 

He was so damn lucky. 

 

 

 

_ \--- _

 

 

 

Alexander parked, stepped out of the car began walking to the opening of the supermarket, making sure to hold Philip’s hand. He could already feel himself begin to sweat, the supermarket was huge. Quickly, Alex turned to Philip and said, “Now, Philip, don’t talk to any strangers and if I let go of your hand do not wander away, okay?” 

 

He nodded, “Okay, dad, don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere.” 

 

Alexander felt himself relax but only slightly, “Good.” They walked inside and Alex grabbed himself a cart and pushed away towards the produce section. 

 

“Any idea of what you want to eat Philip?” 

 

“Hmm.” he hummed his little poking his chin, “Ice cream!” 

 

“No, Pip.” 

 

“Aww, then what about blueberry pancakes?” 

 

“I think we can manage to do that.” 

 

He walked slowly through the produce aisle making sure to pick up some fruits so Philip had something to snack on that wasn’t candy. He stopped at the blueberries, so he could inspect them closer to find a good box. He picked what seemed to be the freshest one and continued walking, Philip right next to him. 

 

“Dad!” Philip shouted. 

 

“What?” He responded his head spinning towards where his son pointed. 

 

“Watermelon!” Philip pleaded, “Can we get one! Please?” 

 

“Oh, fine.” 

 

“Yes!” Philip cheered throwing a little fist into the air that made Alex chuckle. He pulled the cart over to the Watermelons and let go of Philip’s hand, for a second, to pick up the giant melon, that pretty much restricted all his sight, into the cart. 

 

“Goddamn.” He hissed once the melon was in the cart. Alex turned around to grab Philip’s hand when- nothing. “Philip?” 

 

Alexander turned around and Philip was no longer behind him or remotely anywhere in the produce section. He looked away for a second. A second his attention was not on his son. A second it took for Philip to completely disappear into the chaos of the supermarket. 

 

Fuck. 

 

“ _ Philip!? _ ” 

 

 

 

_ \--- _

 

 

 

“Dad?” 

 

 

Philip whipped his head around searching, looking, yet seeing nothing. Nothing besides the tall looming shelves of the toy aisle glaring at him. 

 

“Dad!” He tried again but there was no response. He shook his head and clenched his teeth, he shouldn’t have ran off. He thought he would make it back before his father noticed. He was going to be in so much trouble! Philip walking towards the end of the aisle, not seeing anyone that could help him. He gulped, he had to find his dad himself. 

 

That’s fine. 

 

He could it. 

 

Philip tried to remember where his father came to get, but nothing came to mind. So, there was only one thing he could do, he had to go back to where he last saw his dad. 

 

Philip hoped he was still there. If not then… then… he could always go to the front and ask the registrar, but his dad said never to talk to strangers! What was he supposed to do? He reached the produce aisle, his head spinning, looking back and forth. 

 

Where is he? 

 

Is he not here? 

 

Philip felt himself tear up a little. No! He couldn’t cry. All he has to do is just find his, “Dad!” he sniffed. The store encompassing everything, the white floor extending for what seemed miles, the mindless adults minding their business paying absolutely no attention to him, it felt like he’s alone in a barren white desert with specks of green. “Where are you?!” 

 

He sniffed using his sleeve to wipe away his stray tears from his eyes. He was such baby, maybe Eacker was right. 

 

“Hey.” 

 

Pip jumped back and turned around to face the person in front of him. The tall man crouched down, making him around his height. The guy had giant hair, and darkish skin, kinda like the chocolate his dad wouldn’t let him eat, because he’d get too ‘hyper’. The man’s face twisted; his one eyebrow went up, the other went down and he said, “You okay?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE IT WILL BECOME MORE INTERESTING! 
> 
> Did you make it to the end? 
> 
> That's really impressive.


	12. Static Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, alright, kid calm down. Take a deep breath.” Thomas paused, “And, I’ll help you find your dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 500 kudos!!!!!11!!! 
> 
> 5k chapter!!!!11!! 
> 
> I can not thank you guys enough honestly, 500 kudos wow I honestly never thought I'd even get this close but I mean here we are!! Thank so so much for all the support and comments, that have kept me going throughout. 
> 
> TW in tags!
> 
> Most big chunks of words that have quotations and italicized are flashbacks

 

Thomas walked into the supermarket, phone in hand and a basket in the other. The only reason he came to the supermarket was that he was out of some desperately needed some grocery, mostly coffee. The one thing he needed to start his day. He walked through the sliding doors and headed through the produce section so he could get to the refrigerator to pick up some eggs.   

 

He opened the fridge door, shuffling around until he found a good carton, one that had neither cracked nor missing eggs. He went a couple doors down and also picked up a carton of milk then decided to go back through the produce section since it would be a faster way to his beloved coffee and a faster way out of here. If there was one thing Jefferson did not like it was grocery shopping. If he could he would rather pay someone to go out and do it for him.

 

He turned and made his way back through the produce section.

 

“ _Dad_ ?!” A loud shrill scream caught his attention. A kid was standing in the middle of the aisle looking lost as all hell. He should probably do something. But, someone else would handle it, right? Thomas was sure the kid's parents were around here somewhere… the kid would find them eventually, it wasn’t his problem--“ _Dad_?!”--was no one seriously helping this kid?

 

Jefferson turned around the small kid was still standing looking as if he was about to spill the Niagara Falls out of his eyes. He rubbed his forehead and prayed for strength as he walked in front of the poofy-haired ponytailed boy.

 

“Hey.”

 

The kid seemed to fly back a few inches and then sort of relaxed as Thomas kneeled down so he was almost the same height as the kid. The boy had freckles that looked like they exploded on his face, his bushy brown hair was haphazardly tied back, and he had giant watery tears falling downs his eyes. Thomas sighed and asked, “You okay?”

 

The boy shook his head his hair and tears flying everywhere. “No! I c-can't find my dad.”

 

“Alright, alright, kid calm down. Take a deep breath.” Thomas paused, “And, I’ll help you find your dad.”

 

Damn his good conscience and morals, he wanted to be out of this store in ten minutes, flat. To find this kid’s dad was going to be, like a needle in a haystack. The store was huge with a staggering two floors to look through, this was going to be a pain in the ass. Once the boy stopped crying, and restored to quiet sniffling and rubbing his eyes Thomas asked him, “What’s your name?”

 

He sniffled, “Philip. What's yours?”

 

“Thomas.”

  
  


\---

  
  


They started out by heading to the front desk at the store and trying to have them call on the speaker, but of course, they weren't working. Thomas speculated it was probably from the storm last night. Just their luck.

 

The pair went to the toy section since that where Thomas figured, Philip’s dad would go looking for him. But they hadn’t found anyone that looks even remotely close to Philip’s description.

 

_“What does your dad look like, Philip?”_

 

_“Well he’s short, and he's got long brown hair, and brown eyes and tan skin--like me.”_

 

Thomas slumped against one of the aisles they were going to be here forever. Wasn't there something that could help? He racked his brain for an idea but nothing came to mind.

 

“This isn't working Philip, at this rate, we'll never find your dad.” Thomas huffed quietly, somewhat more to himself than Philip.

 

“W-what?” The kid looked at him all puppy-dog like and teary eyed and Thomas felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

 

“I mean of course we'll find him.” Philip brightened up the tears quickly vanishing from his eyes, “But we just won't find him as quick as I’d like.”

 

They continued walking checking everywhere aisle, nook and cranny for Philip's father but still nothing. No short, long haired, tan skinned man anywhere.

 

“Hey, Mr.Thomas?” Philip asked sounding close to tears, once again.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“W-what if.. W-what if I really never find my dad!?” Philip cried, his tears running down his cheeks like a ferocious waterfall, non-stop. Thomas felt himself almost starting crying from pure frustration.

 

“Philip, Philip. Hey. Look at me.” The kid stopped rubbing his eyes and met his. “We're gonna find your dad okay… I swear to god, kiddo, so don't cry.”

 

Philip sniffed and held out his smallest finger, “Pinky swear?”

 

Thomas chuckled underneath his breath and wrapped his pinky around Philip's tiny one. “Pinky swear.”

 

They continued walking for a few minutes until Thomas realized he had never asked for the kid's father name. It probably wouldn’t help, but it could help if they had a name to call out while searching. But, Thomas didn't know any, short, long (curly, he imagined) hair and tan skin--actually. He takes a looked at the kid, then quickly realizes he looked almost exactly liked Laurens! He didn't remember Laurens having any kids, but hey who knows?

 

“Hey, kid, is your dad, John Laurens?”

 

“You know John?!”

 

“Kinda, I know him through a co-worker,” Thomas sighs happily, “So he’s your dad, then. Let me see if I have his--”

 

“What, no he’s not my dad!” Philip yells, as if the thought of Laurens being his father insulted him, “My dad is Alexander Hamilton.”

 

What.

 

“What!?” He doesn’t know if he wants to scream or cry. Alexander Hamilton, really what were the chances. His life was ridiculous.

 

“Do you know him, my dad?”

 

Thomas sighs, for what feels like the hundredth time today, “Yeah, Philip, I know him.” Thomas quickly opened his contacts and scrolled to find Hamilton, his finger hovering over the call icon for a moment, then he clicked and let it ring.

  
  


\---

  


Alexander had abandoned the shopping cart in favor of moving quickly through the store. He had been screaming Philips name for what felt like the past hour, and yet nothing!

 

His son was missing.

 

Philip was missing.

 

His mind was going crazy his worry, the only thing he could think about was finding his son. He runs through another aisle, screaming Philip’s name. Stopping other parents, that kept giving him disappointing looks, of ‘how-could-you-lost-your-son’ and ‘what-an-irresponsible-parent’. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t have time to care.

 

He needs to find his son.

 

So he keeps running and searching and looking, in every too big aisle and walkway. He finds himself back in the produce section because maybe Philip came back this way looking for him.

 

And, nothing.

  


No, poofy haired, tan-skinned, freckled child, anywhere. He swears to himself that he wouldn’t cry, but to him losing Philip, the even _thought_ of him missing was enough to bring him to tears. Then he remembers often time the staff would use the loudspeaker to call parents, he could do the same. Alexander finds one of the staff, but of course--

 

“I’m sorry. The speakers are down, we suspect it has something to do with the storm last night.”

 

“I-It’s alright, thank you.” And he sees the worker give him a pitiful look before she turns around and leaves back to stocking the shelves.

 

The storm, of course, it seems almost fitting that the thing that had kept him up all of last night, thinking, would do the same today. The thunderstorm didn’t let him sleep, with thunder crashing and lighting illuminating the house, so much so that not even the blinds could help. The storm gave him time think, about everything Eliza had said about what everybody said, and he found his answer, that he wouldn’t, he couldn’t leave Charles for _them_ . The only thing that mattered to him, his son, his beautiful, wonderful son. The only thing he would give up _anything_ for. And, he wonders if he would leave Charles for him--and he almost surprises himself--there’s no hesitation in his answer.

 

 _Yes_.

 

Alexander‘s stops in his search as he reaches in his back pocket for his phone.

 

The fuck?

 

Why was Jefferson calling, him? Alexander didn’t have any time for this, he silences his phone and keeps looking.

 

“Philip!” He screams, his eye darting from side to side. His phone finally stops ringing, and not even a second later, it begins again. It was Jefferson, whatever this was it better be important.

 

He answers the phone, “What do yo--” He quickly shuts his mouth and lets Jefferson speak, and a second later he finds himself sprinting towards the toy aisle.

  


\---

  
  


“So! What’s going on?” Philip bounced up and down, as Thomas sighed, thankfully the kid’s good mood returned after Thomas said he was gonna call his dad.

 

“He’s coming, so don’t worry.”

 

“Thank you so much, Mister Thomas.” He feels himself recoil as the ten-year old nearly face plants himself into his chest, his tiny arms wrapped around his waist.

 

He felt a small smile grow on his lips as he patted the kid on the back, “You're welcome, kid, now, come on I think I see you dad speeding his way over here.”

 

Philip quickly released him turning away, “Dad!”

 

“Philip!” Hamilton screamed back, like father like son, Thomas thought. Philip ran towards his father and his father ran towards him and they met somewhere in the middle. It was so sweet, he could feel it crawling up in his teeth and giving him cavities. He watched as Philip slammed into Alexander‘s chest wrapping his arms around him tight and Hamilton did the same. “God, Philip, don’t you ever do that again!” He heard once Hamilton peeled himself away his hand wiping away at his eye--was he crying?

 

“Yes, Dad!” Philip answered sheepishly, “Never again, I promise! Besides, Mister Thomas found me, so I was okay.”

 

That's when Hamilton finally looks up from his and stares at Thomas and feels himself stutter, at least that what it felt like, past images, voice, conversations, feelings all flew through his mind, until one particular one stood out, the last conversation he had with Hamilton--

 

_“Jefferson, I’d appreciate if you stayed away for me.” Alex said and Thomas felt himself flinch at the sheer disgust in Alexander‘s tone, “Just email me about the project.”  Hamilton pushed past Thomas and stepped into the elevator, he didn’t understand where he went wrong, what did he do wrong?_

 

_“And, It's Hamilton.”_

 

_“R-right, Hamilton.”_

 

\--And he continues to remember, the conversation triggering another, one that he had with Lafayette that same day. The conversation that revealed such disquieting, appalling, such vile, information, that it had changed his perspective on Hamilton as whole, that it restricted his ability to distance himself from the obvious--

  


_“You did nothing wrong, Thomas, Lee probably saw you two together, or had some he knew witness and probably had photo evidence--this has happened before, it's how I know--Alexander probably got the beating of his life.”_

 

_“And you're okay with this, what the hell, Laf! You have to stop this--”_

 

_“And, You don't think I’m trying! I’ve been trying ever since it’s started! I will not stop trying until he away from that man, and that man is either dead or in jail, but I do not have the time to grieve and react at every little thing that happens, I have already accepted what happens to him. Now all I need to do is stop it. And you know what Thomas, you can help me--”_

 

\--he couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t happening anymore. He couldn’t pretend that Hamilton wasn’t being, _abused_.

  


\---

  
  


He watched as Hamilton approached him carefully,

 

“Thank you.” Hamilton said, holding Philip’s hand in what looked liked to be a death grip, by the grimace the kid was making, “I mean, If someone else found him and--I just--thank you for you know, keeping an eye on him, I think I would have died if I never found him.”

 

And, Jefferson thinks, he’s undeniably serious at the last part.

 

“Your welcome, Hamilton. It’s was honestly no problem, Philip, he’s a good kid.” He scratches the back of his head and his nose ticks upwards a little, “Just keep an eye on him, he really is your kid.”

 

They both fall silent for a few seconds, Thomas, trying to think of something to say while also sneaking peeks at Hamilton. His hair was all over the place, more so than usual, the bags underneath his eyes were a deeper purple, probably didn’t get any sleep from the storm, last night, he looked as if he had just ran a mile, with minimum hydration.

 

Thankfully, Philip breaks the silence with a loud, “Daaaad,” Philip whines, “I’m hungry!”

 

Thomas chuckles at Philip antics and Alexander sighs, “Well, I’m done running around the store for today, how about we go out, instead?”

 

“That sounds fun!”

 

“Then, I guess I’ll be going.” Thomas gave them a wave goodbye and turns around walking toward the back aisle for a straight way out-of-here.

 

He turns back around when he heard Hamilton’s, “Thank you, again, really!”

 

“Yeah, no problem.” He gave them a snotty backhand wave goodbye.    

 

“WAIT!” Philip screeched, “Mister Jefferson!”

 

“Philip, oh my god, get back here!”

 

Thomas quickly spun back around and in almost slow motion he sees the disaster being made right before his eyes.

 

God, _help him._

 

Philip crashes into him as soon as he turns around, Hamilton trying to catch his son slips on the floor, carrying them all to the ground. Jefferson wheezed out a gasp of air, the two bodies on top of him restricting his lung capabilities, all Hamiltons were the same weren’t they, clumsy as all hell.

 

Philip who was on top of him started giggling and got off him once Alexander got up.

 

“I’m sorry about that, Jefferson,” Hamilton said his cheeks adorned with a bright pink, and Thomas pushed his thoughts far away in the back of his mind.

 

“M’Sorry too,” Philip cackled out in between laughs.

 

“Jesus, It’s alright, Philip what did you need?”

 

“I want you to come with us!”

 

Hamilton quickly chastened Philip, “Now, Pip, I think, Jefferson is tired and probably has had enough of both me and you.”

 

“What!” The kid had tears in his eyes, “Mister Thomas that's not true is it?”

 

Before Thomas opened his mouth to reply, Hamilton shot him a glare, jeez, he got the hint, “I’m mean I’m a little tire-”

 

“Oh, Please. Please. Please. Please. Mister Thomas!” Philip gave them both his best puppy dog eyes, “Dad?”

 

Thomas and Hamilton sighed at the exact same time.

  
  
  


\---

  
  


And, that's how Philip found himself at the nearest dinner, with his father and Mister Thomas sitting across from them in the other booth, waiting on their food. Mister Thomas and his dad were talking, but he didn’t get a thing they were saying.

 

“How has the project been going for you?” Mister Thomas asked.

 

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ll send you what I have later today,” his father paused and then muttered quietly, “Just try not to ruin it.”

 

Mister Thomas huffed then replied, “Not my fault you have terrible grammar, and opinions.”

 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, swinging his feet beneath the table.

 

“Just some work stuff, Pip.” His dad answered.

 

“Oh, okay.” Philip reached for the salt shaker, bored, trying to amuse himself, until his father moved it away, “Oh come on, I’m bored!”

 

“Here then,” His dad pushed his phone into Philip’s hand, “Go play a game on it.”

 

Philip smiled up at him, “Thanks, Dad.” His father ruffled his head.

 

“Yea, yea.”

 

A couple of minutes passed and Philip searched through his father’s phone finding one of the games he previously downloaded, a began playing it. All his was focused on his game, not bothering to listen in on his father conversation, that is until he heard--

 

“By the way how is Lee?”

 

“Hmm, oh,” His dad's voice lowered and he tilted his head down, “Charles, he’s good, he’s off on a business trip this weekend.”

 

“Oh, is that’s why it was only you two at the store--I was wondering--”

 

“Ah, yea--but, I mean Charles doesn’t usually come out with us either way.”

 

“How come?”

 

His father hummed, “I don’t know. Just never works out that way.”

 

Soon after the conversation ended and their drinks arrived, and Philip drank his hot chocolate in such a hurry that it was gone before he knew it.

 

“Dad, I’m going to the bathroom.” Philip slid off the booth.

 

“Philip wait let me--”

 

“No! It’s okay I’m big enough, Dad, and I won’t get lost I promise.”

 

“Philip-” His father sighed, “Fine just if you get lost take my phone and if you do get lost call, Jefferson, okay?”

 

Philip smiled at him, “Okay!”

 

The last thing Pip heard before he left was Mister Thomas say, “I mean he can’t really get lost in a restaurant, don’t worry.”

 

And, his dad replied, in hissed tone, “Honestly, you’d be surprised.”

 

Surprisingly, he did find his way to the bathroom with relative ease and pushed open the bathroom stall when his dad’s phone started ringing, Philip pressed the answer button and put the phone up to his ear, “Hello?”

 

“Philip?! Why do you have your dad’s phone?” His mother answered.

 

“Hi mom!” He answered, “Oh and you see what happened was I wanted to go to the bathroom alone, but dad was worried I’d get lost again--”

 

“Again?!”

 

“--Yeah I got lost in the supermarket but anyway, He gave me his phone so in case I did get lost, _which I didn’t_ , I could call Mister Thomas.”

 

“Mister Thomas?” His mom asked, “Who is Mister Thomas?”

 

“Oh he’s the one who found me in the store, he says he knows dad, he works with him. He has big poofy hair and he’s really tall, kind like looks like a chocolate giraffe.”

 

“Oh my, Thomas Jefferson?”

 

“Uh I guess.” He thought he heard Dad call Mister Thomas, Jefferson.

 

His mom paused for a second then continued, “Then what is your father doing with Jefferson?”

 

“Well, dad said he was tired of the supermarket so we decided to go out to eat and I invited Mister Thomas because I think--” Philip stopped when he heard his mom laughing on the phone, “Why are you laughing?”

 

“Oh, nothing Philip, It’s just your Aunt Angelica told me the funniest thing.”

  


\---

  
  


By the time they finished eating the weather had already turned sour and gray clouds were beginning to cover the blue sky.

 

The bill came, and he and Jefferson reached for it at the same time their fingers brushing and they each recoiled as if they had been severely burned by the mere touch of each other.

 

“It’s no problem, I can pay, Hamilton.”

 

“No, it’s fine. Let be my way of thank you,” He turns to glance at his son, “for finding Philip,” Alexander cracks a small wry smile, “Besides you paid last time we went out to eat, remember?” As quickly as he remembers the fond memory he wants nothing more to forget, forget what happened afterward, how he disobeyed Charles, how he--

 

“Alright fine you win.” Jefferson leaned back against the padded booth crossing his arm, looking as petulant as a child, pulling Alexander from his thoughts. It oddly reminded him of Philip who did the same motion when he didn’t get what he wanted.

 

Alexander grabbed the bill sticking his card in and signing the receipt calling over their waiter, handing her the book.

 

“Dad look.” Philip pointed towards the dark sky.

 

“Yea, I’m sorry Philip, I guess we won't be able to go to the park this week.”  Little droplets of rain had just begun to fall on the windows of the restaurant, “Besides we still have to drive Jefferson home.”

 

“You don’t have to, I can call a cab or something.”

 

“No! It's okay, Mister Thomas.”

 

The waitress comes back with Alexander‘s card smiling at them, “Have good day sirs! And I just have to say, your son is adorable!”

 

“Oh I-uh, Thank you!” Alexander found himself stammering over his words and turned to Jefferson who as well, had a pink tint on his cheeks as well, “H-have a nice day.” They made eye contact and found themselves laughing quietly to each other while Philip ahead they made his way towards the car.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


They climb in, as quick as they could trying to stay as relatively dry as possible. Philip went in the back, Thomas got in the passenger seat, and Alexander started the car putting into drive slowly maneuvering out of his parking spot.

 

“Jesus,” Thomas remarked, “It's really coming down hard.”

 

“Like cats and dogs!” Philip added from the back.

 

“Heh, exactly, kid.” Alexander watched from the corner of his eye as Jefferson reached back and gave Philip a high five.

 

“I learned it  from school, it's something my teacher would say a lot.” Philip said.

 

“Really?” Jefferson made small conversation back and forth with his son. Until they eventually fell silent and Jefferson turned back around, facing the windows.

 

“How can you even see anything.” He asked.

 

“I barely can, this rain is ridiculous,” Alexander said and it was entirely true. He even had his glasses on and the rain was blocking everything in his sight, the windshield wipers could only help so much.

 

“It's probably an aftershock of the storm last night. Which was was ridiculous kept me up all of last night.”

 

Alexander laughed softly agreeing, “Me too. Me too.”

 

Soon they arrived at Jefferson, of course, lavish apartments, something akin to Charles’s home but less flaunty--if that was even possible. Alexander turns to Jefferson, “Well we're here.” The rain pattered hard on the car windows sounding close to garbled up static noise, it did nothing but accentuate the silence. “Would you-um,” Jefferson scratches the back of his head something Alexander see him do often, “Would you like to come in? I mean I would hate for you to drive in this weather, at least, wait until it calms  down a little.” Alexander opens his mouth to answer, “Look I know you don’t like me, probably hate me or whatever, but I’d hate it if you got in an accident or something while driving, so?”

 

“We’ll come in, Mister Thomas!” Philip answers for him and Thomas turns back to Philip and smiles then looks at him and Alexander nods.

 

“Yea, yea, okay. Why not?”

 

Charles would kill him if he found out.

 

Yet, Alexander pushes that thought into the back of his mind for a time when he feels like nothing and a blade searches for a vein on his wrist.

 

Instead they climb out of the car and Alex grabs Philip’s hand and Thomas holds a jacket over there heads and they run inside and into the elevators, by the time they get to his door to the door, Jefferson pushing a key inside, they’re out of breath and Philip’s gigging away, shaking himself like dog, water getting everywhere.    

 

They step inside, well, Pip runs inside and Alexander follows him smiling to himself.

 

“Tea or Coffee?” Jefferson asks.

 

“Coffee, please!” Thomas laughs, and Alexander feels something, something he knows he’s felt before, but he can’t place it, it’s been too long. His chest hurts as if it trying to remind him of it this is, but he ignores it and he never wants to feel again.

 

He has Charles.

 

And yet--and yet, he doesn’t leave.

 

“Yea, okay, buddy.” Jefferson jokingly and turns to him his head titled to the side, asking.

 

“Coffee,” Alex says then quickly, “Thanks.”

 

“It's no problem.” Jefferson's voice disappears as he goes into what Alexander‘s assumes is probably the kitchen. Then as quickly as he left his head popped back into view and he pointed towards the living room, “You can put on something for Philip to watch, I’m more than sure he’ll get bored in a few minutes.”

 

Alexander nods and drags Pip over to the couch asks him what he wants to watch.

 

“Moana!”

 

“I’m pretty we watched that--”

 

“But, I love that movie!”

 

“I know you do.” He scrolls through Netflix and puts on the movie on, Philip settling down, doing what seems like breathing exercises, probably to get his lungs ready to sing the upcoming song.

 

Jefferson comes out from the kitchen holding two cups and sets them down on the table. “Here, Philip.”   

 

“This isn’t coffee,” Philip remarked.

 

“Nope, it’s grape juice.”

 

Pip muttered something underneath his breath, “Well, I’ll guess that’ll do. Thank you, Mister Thomas.”

 

“You're welcome, Philip.” He says as he sits on the couch next to Alexander, “Moana? Nice choice.” Alexander never saw Philip brighten up as much he did then, it was as if he was looking straight into the sun, blinding.

 

Philip once again becomes absorbed in the movie and Jefferson suggest that they get some work done. They move over to the dining table where Jefferson gets his laptop and pulls another one--out of god knows where and gives it to Alex to work on for now. It's oddly disconcerting how much Alexander likes this quiet, with Jefferson here. They work while Philip watches his movie, in silence only thing in the background,

 

_“Every turn I take, every trail I track_

_Every path I make, every road leads back_

_To the place I know, where I cannot go_

_Where I long to be”_

 

And Alexander hears a quiet humming across from him, “Are you singing the song?”

 

Jefferson quickly bristles, “What no.” And Alexander smiles at the other man’s clear embarrassment.

 

“Hey, I’m not judging you.” He says quietly stifling his laugh.

 

They work for a few minutes more in silence getting in a few jabs here and there but they're all in a light hearted conversational tone.

 

“You spelled Pennsylvania wrong.”

 

“What, no I didn’t.” He scanned over his work.

 

“Two ‘N’s, you have one.”

 

“Yea okay,” Alexander muttered quietly.

 

They soon fell back into silence the typing of their keyboards lulling Alexander into pure focus. They were starting on the second page draft of the project for Washington. So far it had been coming together rather nicely, they had a few disagreeing opinions, but for the most part, they tried to leave them out. As Alexander knew very well, how much Washington liked his neutrality. Especially since he’d be giving the speech to at the event, in front of the Board of Directors, in front of _George King._

 

A soft snore caught Alexander off guard and he stood up walking over to the living room to check on his son. Philip had made himself comfortable on the couch taking a pillow from one of the ends to rest his head on, the credits to Moana playing in the background. Alexander leaned down a gentle smile on his face and brushed straw hairs from his face. Jefferson came behind him, with thin, well-worn, looking blanket a draped it over Philip’s small frame.

 

As they walked back to the table Jefferson whispered, “I looked at the weather the rain should stop around 5:00, I hope.”

 

“Me too, we really should get home.” Charles would kill him--

 

Thomas interrupted his thoughts, “I have another idea for the 3rd page of the draft.”

 

“Alright,” Alex sat down, Charles pushed in the back of his mind, “Lay it on me.”

  
  


\---

  
  


“You know I don’t hate you or anything.” Alexander began unprompted, he didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jefferson had said in the car, “When you said that in the car--I-I’m telling you I don’t hate you.”

 

“It’s alright I understand, I mean, I talked to Laf he told me--”

 

“--Lafayette! What did he say?” Knowing his dear French friend and his savior complex, he probably told Jefferson everything.

 

Shit.

 

 _Shit_.

 

Jefferson probably pitied him, thought he was pathetic, pathetic, a pathetic little bitch.

 

Alexander feels like he had been turned to stone, his body stiff, his heart rigid, his skin cold. He gulps the saliva going down like gravel, scratching away at the soft flesh of his throat, “Jefferson what did, Lafayette say?”

 

Jefferson shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter, it’s not important.”

 

Alex took a deep breath trying to stay calm, his throat tightening, it was becoming hard to breathe, his body started tingling, he could feel his legs, “Jefferson,” He pauses, trying to breathe, “Th-Thomas what did he tell you? What did he say!?”

 

Jefferson almost whispers his response, but it’s loud in enough for Alexander to hear, “He told me--me that Lee saw us together, and he-he hurt you for it.”

 

He tries to hold back the nauseating feeling in his throat, the sour taste in his mouth, left him sick, “Lafayette is biased, he always saying stuff like this, don’t listen to him. Charles is a very strict man, I broke one of his rules and I got what I deserved--I broke one of his rules.”

 

And, suddenly all the thoughts, from today, that he desperately kept locked away in the back of his mind all came rushing back, all the memories he wished to forget, and he realizes.

 

_He breaking Charles’s rules right now._

 

_Charles would kill him if he found out._

 

_Charles would--_

 

_“Maybe you should quit early, Alexander?”_

 

_“No, sir, please, no-no-no I promise I’ll be good. I promise- I promise, please. ”_

 

_“But, either way, Alexander, we still have the deal and don’t even think your company going to have a chance this yea--”_

 

_“One!”_

 

 _\--do_ **_that_ ** _again._

 

He pushed away from the table standing up his legs wobbling as if they were completely disappeared, nothing left to support him, _nobody_ left to support him. But, Charles was always there, he would always be there.

 

What was he doing?

 

Alone with Jefferson when he had Charles? Thinking about Jefferson like that, when had Charles. Looking at Jefferson when he had Charles.

 

_God, what if Charles found out?_

 

_“Forty? Fifty? Sixty?”_

 

_Charles would kill him if he didn’t get back home._

 

“I got what I deserved, Lafayette and the other don’t understand. I-I, It’s my fault, I--I have to go.”

 

He ignores the concerned, “Hamilton.” In fact, he could barely hear it. It reminded of the rain outside, the mumbled up garble coming from Jefferson’s sounded like the static rain hitting the roof of the house. The tries walking over to the living room but strong hands grip his shoulders and it feels as if all the air was sucked out of him, the ground beneath him pulled out from under him, and he collapses to the floor.

 

His vision is blurry, he vaguely hears someone yelling at him, someone shaking him. But, it’s blurry all, static, nothing tangible, he couldn’t feel anything. And, then finally he can hear someone, clearly, no static, all real.

 

_“I can’t believe you, Hamilton, fucking whore.”_

 

Charles?

 

He looked up and all he saw was fair skin and wavy black hair, and all he could hear was garbled up static in his ears, the rain thumbing down.

 

_“I’d figured you’d learn your lesson but I guess not!”_

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry!” He cries, screaming, he thinks he can vaguely feel water running down his cheeks, and wonder if this even real, or maybe he’s going crazy, losing his touch with reality. Maybe Jefferson was all a bad dream, maybe Charles never left, maybe--

 

“I’m not going hurt you.” Somewhere in all the static, in all the rain, he hears it like white noise, something soft, whispering, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

“ _I swear_ , I won’t hurt you.”

 

He opens his eyes and for once he’s not afraid of what he sees.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo What did you think? 
> 
> This chapter is a mix of emotions (like a roller coaster) so I don't know if it's any good. I wanted to split up buuut 5k 500, man. It probably would have been easier to digest if it was shorter but whatever. Oh and question for those of you who read these, do you think this fic pacing is going to slow or too fast?? I have a lot of problems with pacing and I want to know what you think? 
> 
> Anyway, Honestly thank you guys, 12 chapters in and we not even scratched the surface of this fic, I have loved every single comment and person who kudos, because it tells me that you want more and that you enjoy my writing which really means a lot. I don't think you understand, sometimes I cry at have the comments I get because I'm just so happy that you guys actually like my writing!
> 
> (Oh my god I did it again, I want them to get together (jamilton) so bad I keep rushing their relationship how do I stop!??!!)
> 
> Next Chapter: Guess Who's Back, Baby?


	13. Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The waiting game begins. 
> 
> Thirteen hours.
> 
> Thirteen hours until Charles gets home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just gonna leave this here....*bolts out here*
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (read at ur own risk not edited)

 

Philip yawned and sat up, “Dad?” His fluttered open and he rubbed, trying to wake up. 

 

“Oh your awake, how did you sleep?” His father asked him eyes on the road, the rain now just a gentle drizzle. 

 

His eyes go wide as he realizes where they're headed, “Are we going home? I never got to say goodbye to Mister Thomas.” 

 

“I’m sure we’ll run into Thomas again.” 

 

“Really?” He asks.

 

“Really.” 

 

When they arrived back home it was already getting dark, the sun fading into the tall buildings that covered it. His dad opened the door and went to the kitchen, “I know you slept through lunch so I’ll make you so dinner, anything specific?” 

 

Philip puffed up still a little annoyed that his dad didn’t wake him up to say goodbye to Mister Thomas, “Well, what’s Mister Thomas favorite food?” 

 

His dad paused for a second rummaging through the cupboards and whatever was left in the refrigerator, “Mac-and-Cheese.” 

 

“Can you make that then?” 

 

He heard his dad let out a quiet airy laugh, “Sure.” 

 

Mister Thomas, seemed like a pretty cool guy. He wondered why his dad didn’t just date Mister Thomas instead of Mister Charles. Mister Charles was a little intimidating, and his mom said that Mister Charles hurt his dad which wasn’t cool  _ at all _ . He bet Mister Thomas would  _ never _ hurt his dad. 

 

“Call me when foods done I’ll be in my room!” He said then looking back towards his father and the thought that maybe his eyes looked a little more red and puffy then usual, ah that was probably just his imagination. 

 

-

-

-

 

Alexander picked up the dirty plates from the table bring them to the sink and starting the water. After eating Philip had went back up to his room, probably playing his video games or something. As he washed the dishes he looked around the house, he had to start cleaning tomorrow, and go to the store--without Philip this time. He’d have Eliza pick him earlier tomorrow. 

 

He sighed putting the plate in the rack and began the other one, trying to focus on the methodical cleaning instead of the the thoughts running around in the back of his mind. Still, he couldn’t believe he had broken down in front of Jefferson. He blamed on the fact that he hadn’t taken anything today, but he didn’t want to be high, while he was with Philip, he valued that time more than anything in the world. Still he cried like pathetic piece of shit he was, Thomas probably hated him, now, saw him for what he really was. But that was okay, because the only one he really needed to love him, the only person he wanted to prove his worth too was coming back tomorrow. 

 

Charles was coming back tomorrow. 

 

-

-

-

 

Eliza came around 10:00 am to pick Pip up, but Alexander invited her inside, and they had quiet morning. She helped him make breakfast while Philip packed his bags. She asked about his plans, he tells her it was- _ clean the whole house, get groceries, make dinner for charles _ -nothing exciting. 

 

“So Charles is coming back today then?” Her eyes glided to meet his but he quickly focused on cooking instead.  

 

“Yep.” 

 

“Ah, that must be nice, are you excited?” 

 

He nods not bothering to answer, Alexander knows exactly what's she up to. They set the table as Philip comes running down the stairs bags packed and ready by the door. They sit down and the conservation never turns to Charles again, just small talk and the sound of their utensils hitting the plates echos around the dining room. 

 

He gives them both a hug goodbye before they leave and then lets the door shut, leaving him and him alone. 

 

The waiting game begins. 

 

Thirteen hours.

 

Thirteen hours until Charles gets home. 

 

-

-

-

 

Charles stands against the edge of the bed his hands gripping the back of it, as some cute blonde maid adjusts his tie. 

 

“Thank you,” He smirks at her as she blushes and waves her hands up and down. 

 

“Of course, sir, it was no trouble at all.” She glances up and down her eyes clearing eyeing his lips. He leans down as she leans forward, but he ends up right next her ear and whispers, “Your tip is one the nightstand.” He steps back leaving her shocked and gaping giving her a backhanded wave, “Oh, while you're still there, send someone up to collect my luggage, I’ll be leaving today.” He opens the door stepping out then letting it shut. He turns to Reynolds who leaning on the wall in front of him. 

 

“You ready?” 

 

Charles scoffs, slightly tilting his head to the side, one eyebrow arched up, “Are you?” 

 

“Of course,” Reynolds replies with a little smirk, “I’m always ready.” 

 

“Of course you are.” He mutters more to himself then James. And, they begin walking side by side, until they reach the exit doors of the hotel. They open each door respectively, sitting in the back seat of the black car. 

 

Charles pulls out a manilla folder from his briefcase and turns to James, “Shall we?” Reynolds sighs rummaging for his own file, the air around turning serious.

 

“Yea let’s.” 

 

-

-

-

 

He just finished tidying up what was left of the house making sure everything was perfect, perfect abosulety-- _ everything better be fucking perfect, Alexander _ \--perfect. The kitchen was stocked, the floor was mopped, dusted, the counters cleaned. Alexander put the rag down and open each of the cabinets making sure everything was in place-

 

“When did I?” He muttered quietly to himself as the stared at the the white bottle. He shook his head pushing the bottle back into the correct spot, he must’ve forgot to put it back. 

 

Right? 

 

Right. 

 

‘Besides who else could’ve have touched it’, he thought. He started at the clock it's red numbers illuminating back at him. 

 

Five hours left. 

 

He needed to start on dinner. 

 

-

-

-

 

“That was most certainly an impressive presentation, Mr.Lee, Mr.Reynolds.” Mr.Zhang applauded, and the rest of the office members did as well. Charles felt himself swell up, smirking a little, with pride. Zhang Incrop was one of their most needed assets if they were going to win this years event. If he didn’t get them to sign, Charles internally shivered, King was going to have his ass. 

“Thank you, Mr.Zhang, It was pleasure to have to you here.” He shook the man’s hand and giving his award winning smile. 

 

“Yes, yes of course.” Zhang smiled right back, “However,” Charles smile quickly fell. 

 

The man dusted of his suit, even though there absolutely no dust particles present, “I must say that Washington’s and Mr.Jefferson’s presentation had such the finest detail in their finances, it was absolutely astounding. I am very sorry Mr.Lee, But I will have decline your offer.” 

 

He gritted his teeth together, trying to keep himself composed. 

 

“Of course, I understand.” 

 

-

-

-

 

Alexander finished the cutting and dicing all the vegetables before throwing them into the pot. He sighed setting the stove to medium heat. He began working on preping the meat, turning on the oven. 

 

Three hours left. 

 

-

-

-

 

“What the fuck!” Charles yelled in the back of the car, “What the actually bullshit was that!” He clenched his fist his nails biting into the skin of his palms.

 

James sighed opening a bottle of wine, throwing the cap somewhere on the floor, “We just lost a bitch load of money.”

 

“ _ You think?!” _ Charles growled, “He going to be so fucking pissed. They both are!” 

 

“Unless…” James began and took a swig at the wine bottle. 

 

“Unless what James!” He yelled not entirely asking.

 

Reynolds handed him the bottle and reached over to his briefcase pulling out a tiny vial of clear liquid and a packaged needle, “We make it all back. He definitely won’t give a shit how, as long as we do.”  

 

Charles opened his mouth to quickly retort, then quickly clenched his teeth and looked over to the side, “I promised him, that I wouldn’t-” 

 

“I was promises thing to Maria all the fucking time Charles, and the I fucking break them anyway, so what, and plus who the fuck do you think did the finances for Washington fucking company anyway?” 

 

Lee’s eyes widened, “That little bitch,” he whispered. 

 

“Yea in-fucking-deed, while you're at it,” James pushed the needle and vial into his open hand, “See if you can get him to quit his job, that makes everything easier for us.”

 

“You really think he can make back this money?” 

 

Reynolds winked, “Without a doubt, sweetheart.” 

 

-

-

-

 

Alexander set the table, throwing a white tablecloth over it then set the plates and utensils down. He went back to the kitchen a brought the food out, setting it in the center. 

 

He stared quietly at the two plates from Charles and Reynolds, then quickly scurried to go get the wine, there was no time to waste after all. 

 

One hour left.

 

-

-

-

 

Charles sat across from Reynolds on the Jet, starting out the window, quietly listening to what the other man was saying. 

 

“Its called Ketamine.” 

 

He turned slightly to look at him, “The anesthetic?” 

 

“It can be used for that so, yea.” Reynolds huffed, “I gave you it in intravenous and liquid form, choose your poison. The needle if you can get it into vein will take about 30 seconds before it knocks him out, if you get his muscle you're looking at about one to four minutes. If you use the liquid I would slip it into his drink, then sit down eat, and around half-way in he’ll start to feel it. Hell, if you're really paranoid use both. Got it?”

 

“Yea.” Charles nodded even though he was looking at James, “Got it.” 

 

-

-

-

 

As Alexander had just finished touching up everything up when doorbell rang loud and clear.

 

He froze. He couldn’t help himself, this was it. He’s here. 

 

Alex realized he shouldn’t keep Charles waiting and all but ran towards the door and quickly pushed it open. Charles stood in front of him luggage behind him a smile on his face, that tugged at Alexander‘s heart strings. 

 

“Hello, Alexander.” 

 

“Charles,” He said practically breathless. Charles then moved to step inside and Alexander moved back to give him room. 

 

“Did you make dinner?” 

 

He nodded, “It's in the kitchen, set up for you and Reynolds.” 

 

“Ah, that won’t be necessary he won’t be coming inside, it’ll have to be just you and me, dear.” Charles turned his back to look at him, “Is that okay?” 

 

“Huh?” Alexander shocked at the mere prospect of being allowed to eat with Charles again, “Of course it’s fine-more than fine.” He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. 

 

He nodded, “Take my luggage up stairs, and meet me at the table, Alex.” 

 

“Of course.” Alexander quickly grabbed the suitcase out of Charles hand and watched the taller man disappear into the dining room. The suitcase was extremely heavy but Alexander was sure he could manage. 

 

By the time he got back to the dining room, Charles had already started eating. Alexander sat down in the seat directly opposite of Charles, and dished himself some of the food. He went to pour the wine, until he already realized Charles had poured it for him. 

 

“How was your trip?” He asked quietly, careful, because this was odd, Charles was acting odd, everything about this situation didn’t seem  _ right _ . After business Charles and Reynolds would usually come back drunk, if it went well, demanding and horny. If it didn’t Charles beat the shit out of him while Reynolds still drunk watched. There was never, never, ever, this sullen quiet, this  _ calm before the storm _ . 

 

“Good actually.” Charles smiled held his wine glass up and tilted it forward, “How about a toast to that?” 

 

Alexander followed Charles movements there glasses click together a small echo ringing in the air. He tipped the glass back into this mouth and then settled it back onto the table. Charles goes back to eating and Alexander does the same, taking a couple sips of the wine between. Charles fills the air talking about the trip. 

 

“I met with Danny Zhang, I’m sure you know who he is?” 

 

Alexander nodded feeling more and more relaxed with each minute, it had to be the alcohol. 

 

“Yes, we were trying to get him to sign, however he declined our offer-said that Washington’s financials were simply, as I quote, ‘astounding’. Alexander do you know who does the financials for Washington?” 

 

Alex felt himself go still. 

 

“You do, Alexander, don’t you?” Charles sighed as if it was just some minor inconvenience, “Anyway, we lost a lot of money Alexander, _ a lot of money _ , and Reynolds offered a wonderful idea, since this is in fact your fault I'm sure you can pay it back?” 

 

Alex felt his sweat dripping his brown and gulped, shivers ran down his spine.   
  


“Charles… I..” He tried to get up off the chair, too move, to do  _ something _ but he his legs failed him and he end up on the floor his glass shattering on the floor, wine spilling red all around him. He pushed himself back with his arms, but he could feel the cold numbness spreading quickly. Charles drugged him. Charles  _ drugged _ him. And, he quickly realized why.  

 

He couldn’t.    
  


He couldn’t go back. 

 

“Charles, charles please! You can’t-I can’t go back there! Please!” He screamed while he could. He heard the chair move and saw Charles walk towards him, it was almost ethereal the way he looked, with all the light shining behind him, leaving only his black shadow that cascaded down in front of him.

 

He leaned down his hand tracing Alex cheek as the numbness slowly spread over his arms and neck. “I can do whatever I’d like, Alexander.” Charles whispered to him. 

 

He saw Charles get back up, and he turned his head to the side, unable to look at him. He felt tears roll down his eyes before the numbness overtook him and dragged him down into its inky depths.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad to tell you guys that I'm actually not really into Hamilton anymore :( but I said i wouldn't abandon this and I'm not so I'm gonna try really hard to finish this it probably wont be to great but yea :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> If you made to the end thank you for reading!  
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated!!!! (they're what I live for) If any of you have some constructive criticism i'll be sure to take it to heart, just leave a comment, god knows my writing is horrendous™.. Anyway, I have a light outline of how this story is going to play out, and hopefully, I can get my act together and finish this. (Don't you just looove to see Alex suffer mwhaha)


End file.
